


hold me close so tender, in the shadows hiding from yourself

by playthetyrants



Series: i'm searching for a light to take me home and guide me out [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Discussions of War, Gen, Han and Leia love their son, Slight Violence, Tags Are Hard, depictions of war, haircuts are symbolism for...something?, mentions of original trilogy, nothing major, slight depictions of PTSD, this is a sequel by the way, various Jedi lore made up by yours truly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playthetyrants/pseuds/playthetyrants
Summary: She's got blood on her face, bits and pieces of rock stuck to her skin from the impact and Ben suddenly feels frozen, his breath catching in his lungs and his heart seeming to stop its erratic rhythm against his ribs for a moment.It begins as a warmth; somewhere deep within him, not quite his stomach and not quite his chest. Ben can feel his jaw aching at the way he's clenching his teeth, fingernails digging into the skin of his father's neck.It spreads quickly and without a sense of purpose, other than filling all of his limbs with a sort of liquid fire. He feels like he's trembling, shivering like he would in the middle of a snowstorm but the flakes in the air are ashes and dust, and his blood is boiling with something he's never felt before.That's the first time he remembers it happening; coincidentally, it's the first time he loses control, too.He blames it on his lack of understanding and training, but deep down he knows.The Force has always wanted him on the Dark side.(ben solo is seven years old when his life changes forever.)
Relationships: Ben Solo & Han Solo, Ben Solo & Leia Organa, Ben Solo & Luke Skywalker, Han Solo & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: i'm searching for a light to take me home and guide me out [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812613
Comments: 13
Kudos: 18





	hold me close so tender, in the shadows hiding from yourself

**Author's Note:**

> holy fuck. just...yeah. holy fuck. 
> 
> i started this sequel not even a week after i posted the first part; i just finished it last night and spent today editing. it's still not perfect and i think i might jump around between past and present tense a couple times, but i finally finished.
> 
> i had this vision and i so desperately wanted to continue this story, but that's easier said than done. this year has been ROUGH, and i'm sure i speak for everyone when i say that. i honestly didn't think i was ever going to finish this but i did, and i'm so extremely happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> i'd apologize forever about how long this took me to post, but even then it wouldn't be enough so i'll just shut up and let you read it! i hope the length helps make up for any despair i might have caused. 
> 
> (title comes from lyrics to fallen alien by fka twigs, which i listened to obsessively while writing this. i adore her.)

Ben Solo is seven years old when he wakes up to the world ending.

It's the middle of the night; maybe early morning? The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is the blurry image of faded, orange light pouring in through his window. Ben hasn't seen a sunrise that rich in color in a long time.

He blinks a few times and realizes his eyes are stinging; a couple moments later he feels his lungs begin to burn from what smells like acidic smoke.

It isn't until he sits up and properly opens his sleepy eyes that he realizes the blurriness isn't just from exhaustion, but plumes of dark grey smoke beginning to float in through his cracked open bedroom window.

There's noise, too; he wonders how he hadn't woken up before this moment. Along with the crackles of God knows what burning outside, he can hear people yelling, mixed in with the sound of...marching? Stomping? He assumes they're footsteps, heavy and loud and perfectly in sync, at least for a few seconds. Ben is frozen in fear, his small hands clamped around the edge of his comforter, when the steps suddenly pause.

There's a beat then, one filled with a horrible sense of unease and then Ben hears a sudden onslaught of blaster fire, deafening and terrifying and the screams that come in return are silenced almost immediately.

It doesn't take him long to push his blankets off and sit up in bed; he frantically pushes back his long hair from his eyes, dark curls that he tucks behind his ears at the same exact moment his bedroom door bursts open, and he sees his mother and father rush inside.

"Ben," Leia breathes, immediately crossing the room and scooping him up out of bed. He doesn't try to argue, letting his legs hook around her waist for support and he barely has time to grab a hold of her neck before she's running out the door again, footsteps light but quick against the wooden floor.

Ben keeps his eyes fixated on his father; Han looks arguably distressed, haphazardly dressed in a tan shirt a little too large on him and dark pants, fighting to strap on his holster belt as they move. He tightens his grip against his mother's shirt, one that feels and looks similar to her husband's. Her shorter legs move quickly, rushing down the stairs that lead to their living room and Ben watches in frozen fear as his father pulls out a blaster and steps forward, pushing the front door open for them to run through.

God, he wishes they hadn't.

It's loud. He can barely hear his mother murmur into his ear, despite the fact that her lips are only inches away.

"Stay quiet, baby. Just hold onto me and don't let go."

He does what she says but after a few moments he's passed to his father; he doesn't try to argue. Han's grip is tighter, stronger, and Ben hears him pass his blaster to Leia.

It's hot.

Ben can barely keep his eyes open; the smoke hurts, stings and brings tears that threaten to brim over and spill onto his cheeks.

He's not a crier, he's not a baby. He won't cry in front of his parents. The ripe age of seven is far too old for that.

Still, he ducks his face down into the crook of his father's neck to help shield them from harm. His legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, and his dad's got a death grip on his back with one arm, the other holding onto his mother's hand.

They're running; Ben can tell that much from the way he's bouncing and from his parents' loud panting. Above that is the sound of blaster fire, rampant and chaotic and it makes Ben's skin crawl just listening to it.

He lifts his gaze just for a moment, glimpsing above his father's shoulder and through his own long dark hair to gauge the scene, and immediately regrets it.

Ben has never liked fire. It's too warm and spreads too easily, too quickly. Something with that amount of power to destroy shouldn't exist, not when there's enough bad guys out there.

It's burning his city alive; he feels like he's watching something he shouldn't be, but he can't stop. The best way he can describe it is as a monster; huge mouth, loud roar, no sign of stopping and no sort of guilt detected.

Ben watches his childhood home go up in flames and can't even really register it happening; years later, he still won't. One moment he's sleeping in it and the next it's collapsing in on itself, throwing ash and embers into the air to disappear amongst the stars above it.

Ben tightens his grip on his dad's neck, small fingernails digging into his skin and his mother notices, reaches her free hand up to gently push his face back down, her voice still soothing despite the way they're sprinting.

"Don't look, Ben. We're gonna be okay, I promise-"

Ben feels his eyes widen in horror at the sound of his mother's sudden scream, lifting his head quickly at the way she's suddenly falling, a bright red gash on her upper arm from a blast aimed from the left.

"MAMA!" The word barely escapes his mouth before he feels his father coming to a sudden halt, feet skidding against the messy gravel beneath them before whipping around.

"Leia…" Ben turns his head to match his father's, seeing his mother on the ground with her other hand clamped over her opposite arm, his chest aching at the way it's growing red.

She's fighting to get up but it's not working; Ben suddenly feels very useless, frowning deeply as his dad tries his best to help her up with one hand.

"Come on, we're almost to the Falcon…" His dad's usually calm voice is shaking with something Ben can't quite place, but whatever it is isn't good.

Ben lifts his head up again to blink against the smoke, looking around fully for the first time at the state of the place around him. People are running in every direction, which doesn't seem very smart but he can't really blame them; he's the most scared he's ever been in his life, he thinks. The buildings are still on fire, more and more of them following in the footsteps of his old house and collapsing entirely; he can't even see the sky anymore with all of the debris in the air.

He looks down again to his mother, her usual braided hair instead a dirty, tangled mess on top of her head. She's got dirt on her face, a thin layer of sweat seeming to keep everything in place and she's still panting even though they've stopped running. Ben's dark eyes flicker down to his mom's arm, her once white shirt now stained a deep red color that he absolutely hates.

He feels his father kneel down in front of her and Ben takes this chance to wiggle free from his grip, colliding with his mother's chest almost immediately.

"Mama!" Small hands make contact with the blood on her body and he can't even find it in him to be upset; he's just scared.

"Ben, don't-" He bears his father's voice behind him but his mother interrupts almost immediately.

"It's okay, Han…" Ben can feel the tears burning in his eyes now, but he doesn't care anymore. If there's ever a time to cry...now feels like it's it.

He loves his mother. He loves everything about her and then some. He loves the way she smiles at him when he's feeling down and the way she wraps him up in his blanket at night for bed. He loves the way she lets him stay up late to wait for his dad to come home and loves the way she cuts his sandwiches for lunch.

But mostly he loves the way she kisses his head, in that soft way that makes him feel like everything's going to be okay even when it's not, just like she does then.

Ben can feel his dad's hand on his back, holding him steady while Leia brushes his hair from his eyes, smiling softly at him. She's never lost that smile, and Ben hopes she never does.

"It's okay, Ben. Don't be scared." He doesn't like the way her voice sounds amongst all of the loud chaos around them. He feels a tear escape down his cheek and he tilts his head down, feels his father's rough hand gently brush against his face to wipe it away.

The soldiers in white; the Stormtroopers, he heard his dad call them, are everywhere now. Ben looks up to see a swarm of them suddenly surround the three on the ground, feeling his father yank him in close towards his chest for protection.

"Hands up! It's over, rebel scum." Ben doesn't like the way they sound, their voices rough with static and dripping with anger. His father's hand travels to the back of his head and Ben finds his face being pushed into his neck, shielding him from whatever it is they're about to do.

Ben knows. He might be young but he's not stupid. He can practically feel the aim of the blasters pointed towards his head.

He thinks of his mother, bleeding profusely from her arm behind him, who's never backed down from a fight for as long as he's known her. He thinks of his father, who's got one arm wrapped around Ben's back and the other still holding his mom's hand, and with his ear against his neck he can feel how quick his heart races.

Ben's got his hands wrapped around the fabric of his dad's shirt, and feels them clench automatically into fists the longer he thinks. From out of the corner of his eye he can spot movement, shiny white boots against gravel. He lifts his head ever so slightly, resisting his father's attempts to keep his gaze covered and seems them step forward, feels the way his father's body lurches forward as a gun is knocked into his back.

He hears it first before he sees it; the unmistakable sound of a body colliding with the ground. His mother's loud cry is what alerts him to whip his head around, his father in too much distress to even try and stop him.

She's got blood on her face, bits and pieces of rock stuck to her skin from the impact and Ben suddenly feels frozen, his breath catching in his lungs and his heart seeming to stop its erratic rhythm against his ribs for a moment.

It begins as a warmth; somewhere deep within him, not quite his stomach and not quite his chest. Ben can feel his jaw aching at the way he's clenching his teeth, fingernails digging into the skin of his father's neck.

It spreads quickly and without a sense of purpose, other than filling all of his limbs with a sort of liquid fire. He feels like he's trembling, shivering like he would in the middle of a snowstorm but the flakes in the air are ashes and dust, and his blood is boiling with something he's never felt before.

That's the first time he remembers it happening; coincidentally, it's the first time he loses control, too.

He blames it on his lack of understanding and training, but deep down he knows.

The Force has always wanted him on the Dark side.

He drops one of his hands from his dad's shirt and throws it up in the air in the same moment, extending his small fingers in no particular direction and lets out a loud yell, a noise that he hasn't heard from himself before but somehow it's not scary. He sounds like a monster and a hero at the same time, a cry in the dark full of something he isn't old enough to understand yet.

In an instant the troopers are flung backwards, as if an invisible hand has yanked them all back several feet and thrown them on their backs. It's exhilarating and exhausting and happens so quickly that Ben loses balance and nearly slips from his dad's grip, only to be caught by his steady hands.

His head throbs; the rapid pounding in his heart is back, and the light from all the flames that surround them is suddenly too much, squinting his eyes and ducking his head down.

He doesn't understand what's happened; frankly, Ben is convinced that some sort of hero has intervened, saving their lives in the nick of time and hearing the distant cry of Chewbacca's voice in the distance just seems to confirm this for him.

He lifts his head in time to see the Wookiee rushing towards them, bow in hand and shooting down the Stormtroopers around them that are ambling to get up. He catches sight of his mother's face in the corner of his gaze and turns his head slightly, meeting her astonished look and wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" Ben frowns at that, confused at her question. Why would she ask him that when she's the one bleeding? He nods in response, noting the way her gaze flickers up to his father's face above him, a look of concern knitting her brow before Chewie is scooping her up in his arms, and Ben feels his father begin to stand with him on his chest.

"Let's go, we've got to get in the air!" His dad's arms wrap themselves protectively around him once more, one large hand cupping the back of his head to shield him from anything they might encounter and he begins to run again. Ben tightens his legs around his waist and grasps onto his clothing and squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing thickly.

"Daddy, my head hurts…" He isn't even sure his father's heard him before he feels the quick but gentle touch of his lips on top of his hair.

"I know, kid. We're almost there, I'll get you taken care of."

Ben's cheek falls to rest against his neck, inhaling his father's scent for a moment of calmness.

The warmth inside is gone, smoldered away like a fire that's been put out too quickly. He feels sick, but mostly tired, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids despite the rampant chaos the evening has brought him.

Ben doesn't realize it then, and he won't for a while, but it's hard to feel the grip of the Dark side clamped around your mind when you're wrapped so safely in your father's arms.

When they get onto the Falcon Ben is surprised at how his father doesn't let him go, instead shifting him to his hip before running towards the front of the ship and to the cockpit, yelling behind him.

"Chewie, start fixing that wound! I'll be right there as soon as I get us out of here!" Ben is silent, keeping an arm hooked around his dad's neck and turning his head so he's facing outward, watching his free hand furiously work at buttons in front of them.

There's a loud explosion outside and Ben's head jerks up in surprise at the same time as his father's, his eyes widening in shock at the charred bits of X-wings on the runway in front of them. There's a faint,unsettling noise in the distance of more ships incoming, and when Ben arches his neck to get a better look at the sky he hears his father swear under his breath, raising his voice again.

"There's TIE fighters here, we gotta go!" Before Ben realizes what's happening he's being set down on the ground and barely has time to find his grounding before Han is sitting down in his seat.

"Ben, go to your mother and stay there, understand me?" Ben blinks at that, another explosion this time much closer interrupting his thoughts and shaking the Falcon beneath them. He trips forward and catches onto the armrest of the passenger seat, curling his small fingers around the metal.

"But you'll be all alone-"

"Ben, I'm not asking again! Your mother needs you right now, okay? I need you to take care of her!" Beneath them Ben feels the ship begin to vibrate and the familiar hum calms him if only for a moment, holding onto the chair beside him for dear life as his father spins the ship around with one swift jerk. "BEN!"

He's running as fast as his small legs can take him before his name fully escapes his father's mouth, keeping balance as best he can despite the circumstances. When he reaches the middle Chewie is gone; Ben can hear him clambering down towards the gun and his mother is halfway sat up on the bench, tugging rather weakly at a makeshift tourniquet around her arm.

When she glances up it's with those dark brown eyes and Ben feels the panic in him begin to subside, taking in the way his mother reaches out towards him with one bloody hand.

"Come here, my darling. Can you help me?" Immediately Ben is clambering over, trying and failing to walk properly with his dad's erratic flying. Leia manages to catch his hand with her own and Ben tries not to think about how warm and wet it is against his skin.

"Are you okay, Mama?" Clearly she isn't but Ben doesn't want to admit it to himself; the color in her cheeks is gone, her face much paler than usual and the fabric that's tied around her arm doesn't seem to be doing much to help her; the blood that once stained her shirt has now travelled down her side towards her pants.

"I'm fine, sweetheart." Ben feels a sticky hand come to rest against the side of his face, cupping his cheek gently and he looks up towards his mother with what he hopes is a neutral face; he can only muster up so much strength in this moment alone.

_Be like Dad. You can't cry, okay? Dad told you to take care of Mom._

"What do you need help with?" Leia flinches as if on cue, squeezing her eyes shut as the Falcon takes a sharp turn then, bumping her injured arm into the side of the bench.

"Can you go over there and hand me Daddy's jacket?" The hand from his face is lifted and Ben turns his head towards the direction she's pointing, a crumpled heap of fabric sitting on the floor a few feet away. He manages to rush forward and retrieve it before his father takes another sharp turn in flight, hastily handing the jacket over to her before he can stumble again.

Leia takes it and thanks him breathily, and Ben watches his mother begin to wrap one of the sleeves above the wound, yanking it tightly and groaning in pain, her head falling back to rest against the wall behind her.

It's all very surreal, and for a moment Ben wonders if any of it is actually happening.

His mother is dangerously close to blacking out, that much he can tell; he's climbing onto the bench beside her before another nasty lurch jolts him to the side, grabbing onto his mother's leg to keep from flying off.

"It's okay, Mama…" His voice shakes but he figures that it's forgivable; he heard his dad's voice doing the same thing earlier. His mother's eyes flicker open at that, glancing up at him through thick eyelashes and smiling softly, raising her free hand towards his face once more.

"I love you, Ben." He feels her thumb travel across the skin of his jawline, her index finger moving over his forehead to push his dark hair from his eyes at the same time. He averts his eyes from her arm, instead focusing on the slight curve of her lips and gentle gaze.

Somehow, her statement of love sounds like an act of surrender, and Ben can't bring himself to say it back.

She seems to understand this; of course she does. Ben's mother has been able to read his mind since he was a baby, he's fully convinced of that much. Leia slips her arm around his waist and pulls him in close, flush against his side like he's a puzzle piece meant to fit there. He obliges without protest, suddenly yearning for his mother's touch and curls up against her carefully.

His face is mostly buried in her chest but he can still smell the harsh metallic sting of the blood coming from her arm, and it stirs up uneasiness in his stomach once more. She breathes slowly on the top of his head, shallow and not very deep.

He doesn't quite know how, but it's like he can feel that light within her beginning to fade.

He isn't given much time to dwell on it; another violent shift of the Falcon beneath them signals their sudden ascent into lightspeed, and Ben lifts his head up from his mother's chest in time to see his father running in, boots sliding against the metal floor before he reaches the bench and kneels down in front of them, all eyes for his wife. Chewie isn't far behind, clambering up from the gun beneath them.

"Leia! Hey, don't pass out on me, okay?" Ben quickly manages to pull himself away from his mother's side and if she tries to protest he can't tell; she can barely keep her eyes open as is. He's suddenly very aware of the stickiness of blood on his face, glancing down at his own hands to see them stained red with the liquid and he hears his father speak again.

"Chewie, get Ben out of here. Make sure he's okay, will you?" Ben's dark eyes travel slowly up towards his parents again, taking in the way his dad has his mom pulled halfway into his lap, one hand cradling the back of her head and the other pulling frantically at the jacket around her arm in an attempt to tighten it, and there's a brief moment of realization then that clears the haze in his head.

Managing to dodge his way from Chewie's arms reaching out to pick him up, Ben quickly slips down from his seat and onto the floor on his knees in front of his mother, taking his small hand and pressing it down against her arm, feeling more blood begin to seep between his fingers.

He has no idea what he's doing. Something, some voice or idea that was buried deep down in his brain had suddenly come to light, clawing its way to the surface in a moment of sheer panic. Ben can hear his mother gasp in pain from the contact and he looks up just in time to see her eyes fly open, lifting her head slightly to look down at him before his father is pulling his hand away.

"Ben, enough!" His father's tight grip on his wrist is enough to make him grit his teeth in annoyance, trying to yank it from his grasp and before he can protest Chewie has him up off the floor, up in his arms and out of the way. Ben turns his head away and yanks his arm up to his chest haughtily, knowing deep down he shouldn't be mad at his dad but reveling in it anyway.

His anger is deep, although he's not exactly sure why. His heart pounds so violently he can feel it in every party of his body, even as Chewie carries him up front and eventually into the cockpit. He feels like his head might explode from all the pressure that feels like it's building up inside, and apparently Chewie senses it as well. He speaks almost hesitantly, his gentle roar seeming out of place compared to his usual loud tone.

"I'm fine." Ben feels himself being deposited into his father's chair, his legs hanging over the edge and toes barely scraping the bottom. He lets his head fall to rest against the back of the seat, watching the Wookiee clamber rather awkwardly around the space for a moment, unsure of what to say or do.

Ben lets out a small sigh through his nose, feeling guilt beginning to pit in the bottom of his stomach. He loved Chewie; he couldn't have asked for a better partner in crime than the Wookiee, and he wasn't deserving of Ben's short responses.

He feels himself sliding down and out of the chair before walking over, reaching a small hand up to clutch onto his furry hand. Chewie looks down at that, tilting his head to the side and Ben gives him what he hopes is a convincing enough smile. "I'm okay, promise." He lifts his hand up at that, slowly opening his fingers and making a face at how sticky they are from his mom's blood. "A little dirty, but okay."

He can't stay upset when Chewie is around; Ben learned that at a fairly young age. Chewie was as much his uncle as Luke was (and he was around a lot more often). As soon as Ben had started talking Han was insistent on making sure he learned to speak Wookiee too, which paid off tremendously; for a little bit, that night, Ben could simply forget about the horrors that had just happened to him.

Ben hears his father coming before he even appears in the doorway; he's got heavy steps and a weird walk, if he's being honest. Chewie finishes wrapping up his arm and Ben flashes him a thankful smile before looking up at his dad, his demeanor faltering a bit.

Han looks rough, to say the least. It's not like his father's ever been anything BUT rough looking, but it's a bit unnerving seeing him with so much blood on his clothes. Most of the time, it's just dirt or grease. Still, Ben can tell that for the most part the blood isn't coming from any injuries of his own, and he's still trying to figure out if that's comforting or not when he hears the older man speak.

"Hey Chewie, can you go watch Leia for me? She's gotta stay awake until we land, and I'm sure she'd love to see you still in one piece." Chewie gives an agreeing roar in response, and Ben lets the Wookiee ruffle his hair affectionately like he always does before he stands up and walks out, his own heavy footsteps echoing down the hall as he goes.

Ben finally decides he can't avoid his father's face any longer, meeting his hazel eyes with his own brown ones.

"Is Mama alright?" Ben assumed she was; if she wasn't he figured his dad would be a lot less collected. Han nods in response, absentmindedly beginning to roll his stained sleeves up while glancing around the cockpit, as if scanning for something out of place.

"Yeah, she's good." He takes a few steps forward, turning and slowly sitting down in Chewie's seat, still surveying the area around him before bringing his gaze back down and raising one eyebrow. "I'm impressed. You and Chewie managed not to blow the whole place up."

Ben wants to smile at the joke but it doesn't reach his mouth; the effort of pulling his dimples up seems monumental for some reason. When he realizes he can't he quickly averts his gaze away, instead choosing to stare down at the floor, his hands coming to rest in his lap.

There's a heavy beat of silence then, and Ben can feel his dad's eyes on the top of his head and he wants to say something, but doesn't know where to begin.

 _What happened back there?_ That seemed a good place to start. Or maybe _What's going on? I thought the war was over._

His dad beats him to the questions. "Is your arm okay?"

Ben blinks at that, lifting his head up before turning to look at the bandages Chewie had wrapped his limb in. _Strange,_ he thought. _I almost forgot._ He hadn't even realized he was hurt until Chewie had started cleaning him up.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just a cut."

"Is it deep?"

"Doesn't need stitches, so...no."

Han doesn't respond to that, choosing to lean against the back of his chair instead. Ben takes this opportunity to scan his father's own arms for any wounds, as well as his chest and stomach.

"Save your breath, I'm pretty banged up." Ben envies the way his dad is able to act so nonchalant about things; Ben wears his heart on his sleeve, always has and probably always would. He cried about scrapes knees and sore throats, but Han could be bleeding out and still look as relaxed as he does right now, resting his chin on his palm and watching Ben with a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, your mother stopped bleeding right after you left."

He feels his breath catch in his throat, nearly choking on the sudden sensation but he manages to catch himself, swallowing thickly instead. His father doesn't even blink, still staring him down from just a couple feet away.

 _He thinks I did something,_ Ben says silently to himself. _Well I mean, I DID do something. I just...don't really know what it was._

He wants to avert his gaze again but his father keeps him held there, not menacingly but intensely for sure. Dad's always had an intense face; Ben figures it's the eyebrows.

He can feel himself anxiously beginning to curl his toes in his untied shoes, adamant on not fidgeting outwardly and before his dad can ask him another question he's suddenly word vomiting everywhere.

"I just wanted to help!" The statement comes out as more of an exclamation, and he feels panic beginning to rise like bile in his throat. "Something...inside me, it told me to grab her arm." Ben wants to kick himself at how badly he's stumbling over his words, trying to explain himself properly.

"I thought if I took it and I put my hand on it, it would start to...I don't know, help?" He's no longer looking at his father but at the floor again, his erratic heartbeat getting louder and louder in his ears. "It doesn't make sense, I don't know why I did it but my head just kept telling me to do it-"

"Ben." His father rarely raises his voice at him; usually that's his mother's forte, but when he does Ben always shuts up. He nearly bites his tongue closing his mouth as quickly as he does, realizing suddenly that his fingernails are digging into the sides of his legs, his thin pajama pants not doing much to protect his skin.

He can feel Han's eyes practically burning holes into the top of his head and Ben closes his eyes for a moment, horrified to find that there's the beginnings of tears in them. _Typical._

There's a shuffling sound in front of him, signaling his father's departure from the chair and a few seconds later he feels his large, warm hands gently grab onto Ben's own, squeezing them softly for a moment before relaxing.

"It's okay. You DID help...you saved your mother's life."

Ben jerks his face up at that, startled to see his father's eyes only a few inches away. He's got a cut across his cheekbone that he hadn't noticed before, still bleeding a bit and as if on cue Han is reaching up to cup his cheek with his rough palm, temporarily distracting him from the sight.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Ben. Without your help back there...things could've really gone south." He appreciates him not outright saying _your mother would've died,_ because even the thought of that makes him want to throw up.

The thing was, he hadn't felt like a hero while it was all happening. If anything he felt the opposite, felt like the scared child he was who was panicking and just wanted to be useful. It was in that moment he'd felt the same warm, almost burning sensation in his chest that he had back at home, surrounded by all those soldiers in white. Was it bravery? It sure didn't seem like it, but maybe Ben had never been given the proper chance to be brave until today.

He frowns deeply at the thought, staring at a hole in the neckline of his father's shirt before meeting his gaze again, green eyes full of concern. "How did I do that?" he murmurs softly, tightening his grip slightly on his dad's hand. "How did I help her?"

Han's face has always been hard to read; he wasn't emotionless, but his expressions never communicated his thoughts. Ben figures he gets his sensitive side from his mother, or at least the inability to hide it.

His father doesn't say anything for what feels like a long time, just staring back at Ben as if trying to come up with something to say. _Does he know what's wrong with me? Maybe this isn't normal; maybe I'm weird. Am I going crazy?_

His answer isn't exactly what he's expecting.

"I don't know, Ben. But you wanna know what I DO know?" He separates his other hand from Ben's fingers, cupping his other cheek so that he's holding his face delicately. "You are the bravest kid I've ever known."

A feeling similar to relief suddenly washes over him at those words; what he's relieved about, Ben's not entirely sure. It might be the events of the evening finally catching up to him, his brain finally processing the fact that they managed to escape and his mother is alive and they're flying at lightspeed to get away from the Stormtroopers, all things he realized he'd been overlooking.

He wants to open his mouth but he's afraid of what might come out; more tripping over his speech, probably, so he manages a genuine smile at his father's words and is about to reach up and grab ahold of his neck when they suddenly jolt out of hyperspace, the pair of them nearly falling over in the process.

His dad looks up in surprise, peering over Ben's shoulder. "Already?" Before Ben can even turn on his own head Han's hoisting him up to rest on his hip, which he'd normally argue at being entirely too old and big for (which is only halfway true) but at the moment, he's glad of it.

He feels bad for being added weight, surveying his father's wounds up close but he seems unphased, using his free hand to press some buttons before grabbing the steering controls, slowly beginning their descent into the pink and red atmosphere of a small planet that's suddenly appeared before them.

"What's this?" Ben asks, furrowing his brow slightly. He feels his father let out a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly.

"A safe haven," he replies, and Ben can hear the thankfulness in his tone.

The planet is apparently called Zypher, and was used as an old Resistance base during the war. Han seems to remember it fairly well; he's smiling a bit as they begin their descent, shifting Ben's weight on his hip as he takes a step back to watch.

"Man...some crazy nights were had here, kid." Ben raises a querying eyebrow at his father's words, half expecting for his mother to come barreling in and smack him on the arm for saying that but all of that's forgotten the closer they get to the planet.

It has multiple moons; how many exactly, he can't really tell, but the entire place seems to be surrounded by them. All in different colors, all in varying shapes and sizes, hanging amongst the stars like pieces of art. Some are a mild grey, others a vibrant purple. Ben is absolutely fascinated, his mouth hanging open as he holds onto his father's shirt collar and leans forward a bit, trying to get a closer look at the orange one they're passing by.

"And I thought one moon was cool…" he breathes, and he hears his father laugh out loud at that.

They land in a mostly empty dock; Ben silently hopes that more people will be showing up from his home planet in the next few hours. It's nighttime here as well, and when they all begin to pile out of the Falcon he makes sure to stay close by, the dim lights around them not doing much to combat the darkness.

The entire place has a temporary feel to it, as if it were set up at the last minute. Ben figures this is the case; he doesn't think they were planning on this attack even happening, let alone the huge influx of people that came from it. There's buildings, and although they look old they seem sturdy, and Ben can see the beginnings of what looks like a little village a ways down, if he cranes his neck and stands on his toes. He glances around quickly at the other ships, part of him wanting to see if he recognizes any of them as his friends' and the other not wanting to know at all.

Fortunately, he isn't given much time to survey; as soon as he and Chewie walk down the Falcon's ramp his mother and father are right behind; his dad's got his mom in a bridal hold and Ben watches a group of men suddenly rush forward and begin talking with him, although what about he can't quite hear.

He manages to catch a glimpse of his mother's face as she's being carried towards one of the buildings, her dark eyes meeting his own and she gives him a warm smile, bright despite her pale and exhausted appearance. Ben's so in awe of her strength that he barely gets the chance to grin back before her and his father are disappearing into a nearby building, a pair of glass doors sliding shut behind them.

When he turns back around to look at Chewie he realizes the Wookiee's gone; he spots him a few seconds later across the dock, helping with an influx of ships that just landed that everyone seemed to be swarming to. Ben feels himself take a few steps back before he collides gently with the Falcon, running his fingertips against the cool metal. He'd rather not be in the way, and to be quite honest he doesn't want to see how badly injured the people on those ships are.

There's too much going on for people to pay mind to him, and he's thankful for that. He can feel his energy beginning to drain out of nowhere like an overused battery, and he briefly debates on going back into the ship but the effort it'd require deters him just as quickly.

He's making his way up towards the sliding glass doors his parents went through when he hears his father's voice, looking up and seeing the older man exiting the building.

"Taking a nightly stroll?" Ben scrunches his nose up in what he hopes is annoyance, but probably comes off as amused instead.

"Maybe I was!" Han smirks at that, walking over while glancing around the area.

"Where the hell's Chewie, he was supposed to be watching you." Ben shrugs a bit, deciding that maybe his father doesn't need to hear about all of the injured people from back home that had just shown up.

"Who knows. You're lucky I wasn't kidnapped, huh?" Ben watches his father roll his eyes before pulling him into his side by his shoulders, turning them so that they're now walking back towards the building, shaking his head.

"You're turning more and more into your mother everyday, you know that?" Ben smiles at that, resting his cheek against his father's shirt as they walk inside.

"That's not MY fault."

"NOTHING'S ever your fault, is it?"

"Nope. Usually yours, since you're always getting into trouble."

Han groans dramatically at that, throwing his head up towards the ceiling and Ben giggles, grabbing a hold of his hand as they walk inside, the doors sliding open for them as they approach.

"You're starting to sound like her, too." The rush of cool air against his skin momentarily startles Ben, rendering him speechless as he stands in the doorway for a moment, glancing around at his surroundings.

He can only assume this place is the medical station; the walls and pretty much everything contained within them is a pristine white color, with various doors and hallways leading to other rooms within. There's groups of injured people filling the space, sitting on the floor or in chairs and being checked out. Most of them look okay, Ben is relieved to see; some cuts or bruises but no ones bleeding out on the floor, which is a good sign in his book. A part of him knows, though, that those people are probably in the back being operated on, and his mother is more than likely amongst them.

"Is Mama okay?" He realizes he hadn't asked his father that yet, but Han's calm face seems to answer for him.

"She's good." He glances down at him, walking them forward a few steps to stand in a line that's begun to gather in front of a small desk. "They had to take her back to give her some more blood and put her in a bacta treatment for awhile, but she'll be alright." Ben nods slowly at his words, lowering his gaze and staring ahead at the people and beings in front of them, his grip on his father's hand tightening just a little bit.

When they get to the front, a friendly looking Torgruta woman with kind eyes asks them some questions about their injuries, and then they're sent off to a separate room down the hall to be checked out. His father refuses to be seen until Ben is done, waits patiently as one of the medical droids begins redoing his bandages, commenting on how poorly they were done and Ben has to bite his tongue not to defend Chewie's handiwork.

All he's got is some external damage, so he's finished fairly quickly. His father, however, is much more banged up; Ben sits for what feels like an hour in a chair beside his dad, watching silently as the older man is laid down on the table and poked and prodded rather uncomfortably.

"Watch it," he snaps more than a few times at the droid, who's got an attitude that could rival Threepio's so it doesn't really matter. Ben holds back a smile, watching as Han turns his head to face him, his long hair hanging off the side of the table.

"Bored much?" he comments lightly, and Ben rolls his eyes at his dad.

"No. Just tired." Han hums at that, reaching his arm out across the room and pushing Ben's hair behind his ear, scanning his face.

"Yeah," he murmurs after a moment, dropping his hand. "You look like crap."

Ben grins at that, shaking his head and smacking his arm away. "Not as much as you do."

The droid tells his father he should stay the night in a bacta tank to be safe but Han tells him to shove it; he's never liked the treatment and Ben doesn't blame him. Once his wounds are all cleaned and taken care of, Ben finds himself back in his father's arms, this time being carried against his chest.

He feels his eyes beginning to droop before they even leave the building; he's got his legs wrapped around his waist and his arms draped over his shoulders, his head resting in the crook of his neck as they walk, the motion similar to being rocked to sleep.

He dozes off for a couple minutes and when he wakes back up they're back on the Falcon, and Ben has never felt so relieved in his life. The sight of the interior of the ship immediately calms him down, lifting his head up groggily as they make the familiar trek to the tiny bedroom on the ship.

"I've never been so excited for bedtime," he comments lightly, getting a laugh out of his father as they enter the room.

"Me and you both, kid." Ben struggles to keep his eyes open as he feels himself being laid down into bed, still fully clothed and very much dirty. He's about to remind his father that he needs to change when he feels the older man sit down on the edge of the bed and begin to peel off his socks and shoes, taking his time to be gentle with him. He smiles sleepily at that, letting his head fall back against the pillow and closes his eyes.

Han somehow manages to get him undressed and changed into what feels like an old shirt of his father's, large and draping over his entire body. Ben is basically useless the entire time, his limbs like noodles in his father's grip.

He finally opens his eyes once he's finished, blinking wearily up at him. "Did you find Chewie? Is he okay?" Han gingerly takes off his coat, wincing slightly at the effort it takes but keeps his voice steady.

"He's fine, just out there helping as many ships as he can. You know his heart's as big as that giant head of his." Ben smiles at that, letting his eyes close before rolling over on his side and burying his face into the pillow, breathing in his mom's scent and sighing softly.

A few moments later he feels the other side of the bed move as his father climbs in beside him, taking his time and slowly getting comfortable, and Ben can hear him groan in pain as he does. He makes a mental note to force his dad to go get a bacta treatment in the morning.

When he opens his eyes again it's dark, the lights having been turned off and the chaotic noises from outside are muted to almost nothing through the metal walls. For a moment, Ben can pretend he's back home in his own bed, like he was just a few hours ago before the bombs started.

His dad is well on his way to falling asleep, propped up on the pillows behind him and halfway sitting up, probably in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Ben feels a pang of guilt for a moment, wishing he could help but knowing that he was too exhausted to do anything.

Instead, he scoots his body forward a few inches and curls into his dad's side, careful not to touch any visible wounds or bruises before closing his eyes once more.

"I love you, Daddy," he murmurs tiredly, so quiet that he can barely hear himself. Just before he slips into sleep he hears his father's quiet reply, along with a gentle ruffle of the hair.

"I love you too, kid."

When Ben wakes up again, his dad's still asleep.

It's still dark, and Ben can't tell what time it actually is from the lack of windows in their room. He sits up slowly after a moment of rubbing his eyes, careful not to make too much movement and slips out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold metal floor beneath him.

He makes his way out and begins the trek back towards the front of the Falcon, opening the door to the cockpit and squinting immediately at the bright morning light spilling through the windows. Once he regains his vision he takes a step forward, glancing out towards the dock through squinted lids.

It's quieter than last night, but people are still out. They walk slowly, almost like they're out of touch with their surroundings, majority of them looking as exhausted as Ben still feels. He decides to climb up into his father's chair after a couple minutes, pulling his knees up to his chest and silently watching everyone mill around outside.

Without meaning to, he begins to search for his friends; and again, without meaning to, he realizes that he doesn't recognize anyone walking around. He feels his stomach churn a bit, although the rational side of his brain is telling him they're probably sleeping somewhere, or back at the hospital getting treatment like his mom.

Ben leans back against his seat gently, alleviating his gaze from the ground and instead decides to look at all of the buttons and controls above him, full of functions that his father still has yet to teach him. For a moment, if he focuses hard enough on the flashing lights, he can pretend he's back at home, patiently awaiting Han to come join him outside so they can go flying.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't see Chewie making his way towards the Falcon from outside; he only realizes he's arrived when he hears the familiar, heavy footsteps making their way down the hall and into the cockpit.

Ben turns his head around and feels his lips curl into a smile almost immediately, meeting the Wookiee's face with joy. "Chewie! You know, you nearly lost me last night."

The Wookiee responds indignantly, assuring him that he knew he was safe the entire time but somehow Ben doesn't fully believe that. He's easily distracted by the contents in Chewbacca's arms, sitting up a bit in his seat to get a closer look. "Is that breakfast?"

It is; Ben has never been so happy to see some food in his entire life. He'd barely had time to realize he was starving, and his stomach growls loudly once the scent of whatever concoction is in the silver bowls begins wafting through the air.

Chewie informs him that the third serving (which Ben hadn't even realized was there) was for Han, and Ben immediately slips out of his chair and lands easily on his feet, reaching out to help.

"Good thinking, this'll definitely wake him up." The metal is warm against his palms and he smiles despite himself, clinging onto the calm feeling it gives him for a split second. It reminds him of home; one that doesn't necessarily exist anymore, but home nevertheless.

He hurries down the hallway back towards the small bedroom, his bare feet padding against the cold metal floors as he goes. He wants to share the feeling with his father, wants to be able to give him something to smile about despite the mess of a situation they've found themselves in.

Chewie is bending down and squeezing himself into the doorway by the time Ben reaches Han's side, the older man still asleep and sitting up against the headboard.

"Daddy," he says once, and when Han doesn't respond he sets the bowl down carefully on the tiny table beside the bed, reaching out with his little hands to touch his arm. "Dad-"

The way his father suddenly gasps awake is enough to send Ben jumping backward, and just in time too; Han's hand flies up defensively, swinging through the air right where Ben had just been.

His father looks terrified; his hazel eyes are wide and there's a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten, from his face down to the exposed part of his chest that Ben can see. His usually tan skin has paled dramatically, and the bruises and wounds from last night now seemed much more defined, and something that Ben definitely should have made his father stay in the hospital for.

Han's still struggling to catch his breath as he lets his eyes float to Ben for a moment, and then to Chewie. Ben is still frozen in place, nearly pressed back against the wall behind him.

Han's hands fly up to his face as if his head is suddenly hurting, large fingers digging into his closed eyes with an effort that makes Ben flinch just by watching him. He cautiously begins to let his guard down, listening as Chewie mutters something absently to Han before setting down the bowls he'd been carrying onto the end of the bed.

"He doesn't know about that," Han says gruffly, although there's no real anger in his voice. Ben hasn't been listening to the Wookiee's words, but he can piece together pretty quickly that he's suddenly the subject of their conversation.

He decides not to say anything, instead pushing himself up off of the wall behind him to stand up straight, trying to ignore the way he can feel his hands tremble ever so slightly, the adrenaline from his father's abrupt reaction still reeling inside of him.

When Ben looks back up again he's startled to see his father suddenly staring at him, his hazel eyes locked on his own from a few feet away. He looks...well, if Ben was being honest, he looks like he's about to cry, but that's not right. He's never seen his father cry.

"I'm sorry, Ben." His voice sounds like it's made of glass, ready to crack at any given moment after being dropped from someone's slippery fingers. Ben feels his brow furrow at that, blinking once before clasping his hands together in front of him.

"It's okay, Daddy." And really, it was. He knew his father hadn't meant to lash out like that, knew that he'd probably just scared him and that Han had reacted violently out of...fear? No, that didn't sound right either.

His father seems to sense his confusion just by the look on his face, and he takes a moment to look down at his own hands folded up in his lap, resting atop of the worn grey comforter draped over his legs and waist. Ben can see the dried blood beginning to flake off his calloused fingers.

"You just...can't sneak up on me like that." His miserable tone sobers Ben up instantly, his wandering mind suddenly going radio silent. "Or wake me up." He pauses again, and although Ben would argue that most of his father's pauses are usually some attempt at dramatic effect, this one is heavy with uncertainty.

Ben is smart; he was born at the end of a war and knows what happened during it, even at the age of 7. It isn't easy to avoid, what with both of your parents being heroes in said war, and Ben used to play with his father's shiny gold medal all the time as a baby. For a split second, he finds himself wondering where it is.

"I won't." Ben pauses for a moment, suddenly unsure of what to say next and instead opts to lunge forward and grab the bowl on the table between them, quickly holding it out towards his father. "Chewie got us food."

Han lets his gaze flicker down to the meal and then back at Ben, still seemingly unconvinced of his son's sudden nonchalance on the subject. Internally Ben is still a bit shaken, but also beating himself up for not realizing the long term effects of war on his dad.

 _It's like what they taught us in school,_ he says to himself as he carefully passes the bowl to Han's bruised hands. _Some people act differently because of what the war did to them. That's why some older people are sad or angry all the time. It's why Mama doesn't like sleeping in the dark. It's why Thalia's dad snuck into the medical bay and took a bunch of medicine in the middle of the night and then didn't wake up._

The sudden recall of that memory is jarring, and Ben feels his stomach churn at the memory of his friend's dad's funeral, just last year. Mama had known him from before, in the war.

He's eager to displace the memory as quickly as possible and Ben busies himself with climbing up onto the edge of the bed, careful with his food and careful not to sit on his dad's feet.

Once he's settled he glances up at Han and sees the older man staring down at his food, his right hand clutching the metal spoon that had come with it. Ben hears Chewie eating somewhere behind them, and decides to follow suit and looks down again, carefully lifting some of the warm broth to his mouth before drinking.

The silence is deafening; Ben finds himself wishing the Falcon walls weren't so soundproof. He focuses on eating, the only thing he seems to have control over at the moment, and feels like years have passed again by the time he decides to look at his father again.

Ben watches him dip the spoon into the bowl with difficulty, his damaged fingers struggling to hold it properly.

"You really should have stayed in the hospital last night," he says quietly after a moment, and instead of lifting his gaze he turns his head down towards his own bowl in his lap, suddenly not as hungry as he'd thought he was.

He hears his father give a complacent sigh, feels the way the bed moves slightly as he shuffles uncomfortably in his spot under the blankets.

"Yeah," Han replies shortly, and Ben can see the way his hand shakes slightly as he sets his spoon back down. "You're probably right."

The rest of the meal isn't as enjoyable as Ben had hoped it'd be, but they get through it. He finds himself taking an even longer time to finish than his father, lost in his thoughts so deeply that he hardly notices Han begin the struggle to get out of bed.

It's painful to watch; his father has always been the pinnacle of health, at least in his young eyes. Ben finds himself sliding off the bed and making room for Chewie to come through quickly, using his large hands and strong arms to help Han out of bed. Ben can tell he's gritting his teeth, his face scrunched up in a way that's nearly got his eyes shut.

The blankets fall away and Ben sees what damage the night managed to bring, decorating his bare chest like a chaotic painting. Blue and purple bruises dot his tanned skin, from his neck all the way down to his waistline. His dark pants are still stained with what Ben has once assumed was his mother's blood, but could now be argued to be his father's as well. His arms are decorated with an array of cuts, most likely from bomb shrapnel and other bits of debris that had been raining down upon them in their hasty escape. Some look deeper than others, crusted over with dry, flaky blood and he can't believe how he hadn't noticed the damage last night.

He's having trouble walking, and the shakiness Ben had noticed earlier doesn't seem to be getting any better. Chewie is patient, neither of the pair looking towards Ben as they begin a path towards the doorway and ultimately towards the exit of the Falcon, no doubt making a beeline for the hospital.

Ben lets them leave, and welcomes the heavy silence that follows. He knows he should be right on their heels, eager to see his father being taken into proper care, but at the moment his legs feel heavier than lead and he's wondering whether or not that's even possible.

Very carefully, he sets down his half full bowl of soup on the floor in front of him, his small legs aching in protest as he does. His head spins as he straightens back up, temples beginning to throb as the tight feeling he gets in his throat right before he's about to cry arrives, and he feels like he'd blush had there been anyone there to see him.

Ben doesn't think he's felt so helpless in his entire life.

He's always hated crying, ever since he was little. It's not that he was humiliated by it; sure, that was partially true, but the fact of the matter was that it always HURT him to cry. When he cried it was always from deep within him, starting painfully in his chest until it seemed to swell up and expand inside of him, flowing through his limbs and down to his fingertips. It was a process, a sensation that Ben despised, and he figured that it was a product of him ignoring whatever it was that had made him upset in the first place. It wasn't until he was safely in the arms of his mother that he could let it all out, break apart into tiny pieces that only she seemed to be able to put back together.

_...Mama._

The realization that Leia should be better by now hits him like a truck, momentarily stunning him before he's wiping his cheeks with the backs of his sleeves and immediately running out, small footsteps echoing rather loudly on the ramp of the Falcon as he manages to pull on his pair of pajama pants and departs the ship, makinga beeline for the hospital.

He doesn't see his father or Chewie when he bursts inside, darting between and around the people and creatures around him to try and get back to the counter they'd checked in at last night.

Fortunately, Ben's spared from having to try and formulate a way to ask where his mom is, because he spots Leia out of the corner of his eye right before he reaches the front.

She's exiting a hallway towards the back, dressed in new white clothes and accompanied by a medical droid who seems to be informing her of something. She listens half heartedly, her attention focused on the clean new bandaging around her upper arm and shoulder where she'd been hit last night. Ben can simply do nothing but stare for a few seconds, feeling the not so gentle movement of people trying to push past him in line, and then finally Leia looks up, almost as if she'd sensed his presence.

He was sure she had; she was magical in that way.

"Ben!" His mother's face broke into a huge grin and before Ben could even move to step forward she was rushing over, scooping her up in his arms and hugging him close to her chest.

"Ah, careful of the shoulder!" Ben could hear the medical droid snap mechanically behind them but Leia paid no attention, instead pressing a kiss to her son's cheek before pulling her head back slightly, scanning his face. "Are you alright, my love?"

Ben nodded quickly, wiggling a bit to signal to her that he wanted to be put down and she obliged, letting his feet touch the ground before she got on her knees and met his gaze eye level. "Where's your father?"

Ben shrugs a bit, watching Leia's face darken slightly at his father's supposed irresponsibility before quickly adding, "He's here somewhere. Chewie had to bring him in because he couldn't walk, he's all banged up."

Leia's brow furrows in concern but she doesn't dwell upon it long, instead reaching down and taking his hands gently in her own. "He'll be okay, the doctors will help him out. Look at me, I'm good as new!" Ben couldn't help but smile at that, taking a moment to study his mother's face.

She had a point, although arguably anything compared to how she looked yesterday on the brink of death would look better. Her cheeks had color to them again, her braids still wildly unkempt but they had more of a weary look to them now as compared to helpless before. She'd changed out of her bloodstained clothes, and seemed to have been scrubbed clean of any evidence that the attack had happened. All that remained to clue the world in was the bandages around her upper arm and shoulder, apparently still needed in the healing process.

She seemed to notice and tried to distract Ben by tapping his cheek with her thumb, trying to divert his attention away from it. "Hey, I promise I'm all good. The bacta tank managed to heal everything else except that, but if I keep these on it'll go away too."

If his mother was anything it was genuine, and Ben needed only a few seconds before he was nodding again. With that she gave him another kiss, this time on the forehead before standing up and turning towards the droid, keeping a hand on his shoulder as they quickly began to discuss what needed to happen in order for her to finish healing.

Ben zoned out after a moment, instead scanning the room for any sign of his father or Chewie but to no avail. It's not like he wouldn't be able to spot a giant Wookiee in this place anyway. He's deterred from his search by the gentle motion of his mother pushing him forward slightly, signaling for him to start walking. He obeys, and finds himself being steered towards the front doors of the building.

"Aren't we gonna check on Daddy?" he questions, lifting his chin a bit and glancing up at his mother through his eyelashes, her face upside down and slightly blurry from the walking.

Leia looks down and meets his gaze with an amused smirk, lifting her head back up as they go through the doors. "Daddy's getting taken care of, probably already threw him in a bacta tank." Ben considers this for a moment and realizes it's more than likely true; his parents seemed to have a high priority status wherever they went.

His observation is further confirmed once his mother takes his shoulders and begins steering him in a direction that's away from the Falcon, and instead towards a large building that's looming on the outskirts of the landing bay.

It's tall but nothing magnificent, much like the rest of this little planet Ben's found himself on. War seemed to have touched this place, much like the rest of the galaxy, during the Empire's reign. He remembered his father's comment about how they'd been here before, a long time ago, and wondered idly what it had looked like then.

He doesn't even consider asking his mother where they're going; that internal question would be answered soon enough. Ben could tell by the way Leia was walking rather quickly that she seemed to be in a rush for something, and he did his best to pick up the pace as best as his shorter legs could manage. She kept her hands on his shoulders the entire time, although her grip remained gentle throughout.

The front door was made of dark wood, faded and beginning to splinter away from a combination of age and use. The rest of the clay colored building seemed to be crumbling itself, and Ben was silently questioning the safety of this entire place when the door was swung open in front of him and he saw a familiar face from back home.

Mon Mothma looked somewhat grim, but otherwise uninjured. Her short hair was still somehow pristinely brushed and curled slightly beneath her ears, and she wore one of the same grey gowns Ben had seen her in so many times before. She still had her sense of regality about her, but something was off. Immediately she stepped aside and allowed Leia to gently shove Ben in through the doorway, moving them both so that the door could be shut behind them.

"Good, you made it." Ben glanced up to try and see if she was showing any sort of emotion on her face; her stoic voice didn't give him a clue as to what was going on. Mon Mothma seemed to notice this, and turned her gaze downward to meet Ben's eyes, a small but seemingly genuine smile appearing on her lips. "And I'm so glad you're alright, little one."

Ben isn't even able to get a response out before Leia is kneeling down in front of him for the second time that day, taking his hands. "Sweetheart, I need you to stay out in his hallway for me, okay?" He immediately lets his eyes dart up from his mother's face to the surroundings around him, realizing he's in what seems like someone's home. There's a doorway to another room a few feet in front of him, where Mon Mothma hovers almost nervously and if he cranes his neck a bit, he can see a small gathering of even more people inside.

 _Are those people from home, too? Are my friends' parents okay?_ Ben dwells on these questions only for a moment before he realizes he's nodding almost robotically, eye contact still broken from his mother.

He feels her squeeze his hands gently, as if trying to reassure him of something. "It shouldn't be a very long meeting, but I couldn't leave you alone somewhere. Just sit tight out here, and then we'll be back on the Falcon before you know it."

That was the extent of what he got; a meeting. No doubt it was about the attack, about the danger that had exposed them out of the blue just a day before. Ben knew better than to ask his mother probing questions; she'd always been secretive with her work, and it made sense. It probably wasn't stuff a 7 year old should hear about.

Still, Ben couldn't help but notice that helpless feeling he'd gotten earlier when watching his father being taken out starting to creep up his throat, tightening it slightly. Leia was still staring at him with his small hands in her grip, as if silently pleading with him to just sit down, stay quiet, just for a little bit.

Work didn't stop for anyone, and especially not for his mother.

Of course he agreed, and soon Ben found himself with his back against the wall and his legs extended out against the worn wood floors beneath him.

He tried not to think about anything at first; maybe turning his brain off would do him some good. But it wasn't long before the thoughts came anyway, and at first they all dwelled upon his father. Was he alright? Did his mother just say that to calm him down? After a few minutes of near panic, Ben remembered that, arguably, the only other person she loved as much as him was his dad. If he were in any serious trouble, she never would've come to this "meeting" in the first place.

Next came the worry about his friends and their families; how many of them were at the hospital right now? How many of them had even made it off of the planet in time? Ben shivers slightly at the recollection of the attack, wrinkling his nose as if he can still smell the smoke that enveloped him as they ran, all from the flames that had destroyed his childhood home in one swift move.

Ben had never been much of a mourner; sure, he got upset and sad about certain things, but he was able to push past and forget most. He'd never been one to dwell on things, especially painful ones. That's why he hated crying so much; because when he was crying, it was a regurgitation of a million different issues he'd failed to dwell upon, all at once.

 _Maybe you should cry,_ Ben thinks to himself. _Let it all out or something. I don't really feel like crying right now, but I could probably make myself while I'm sitting out here._

His plan seems stupid but not enough to deter him, and he's about to start wracking his brain for some particularly devastating memories when he hears muffled voices through the wall behind him.

"Your brother's coming?" The woman's voice sounds strangely familiar, although it's not Mon Mothma or his mother. Ben perks up a bit at the prospect of this apparent survivor from his planet and he turns around on his knees, pressing his ear against the wall for better inspection.

There's a bit of a pause, and Ben hears someone else sigh. "Yeah, he is." His mother's voice sounds strangely out of touch, albeit a bit weary as well. "He'll be here in the morning. If he has any sort of information, he'll let us know."

 _Uncle Luke?_ Ben ponders this newest development for a minute, momentarily drowning out the voices from inside. _Makes sense; he's a Jedi and all. He probably knows a lot of stuff we don't._ Mon Mothma's voice rings out clear as a bell once more, and Ben zones back in to listen.

"Right now, there's not much we can do until we get some definite answers." He can hear a murmur of unrest flow through the room momentarily but then it's gone again. "Lieutenant Organa, try and find out whatever you can. We cannot let this happen again, at least not unexpectedly. I'm afraid to say it, but the Battle of Endor might not have been the end to the war after all."

Ben swallows instinctively at that, not liking the way her words seem to loom in the silence that follows. That couldn't be right; the Empire had been defeated. His parents had helped it happen, and his uncle, and Chewie. Things were different now, times had changed.

This couldn't happen again. Not so soon.

Ben manages to scramble himself up into an upright position once more just as the door opens again and a flood of people begin walking out. No one seems to take notice of him, which he doesn't mind; from his low vantage point, he isn't really able to make out faces, so he can't determine who he knows that made it away in time. Probably for the best; he doesn't think he wants to know right now, anyway.

His mother isn't among the dispersing crowd, and once the hallway is empty again he stands up and rounds the corner of the doorway, peeking inside to see her and Mon Mothma conversing a few feet away, next to a long table in the middle of the room.

Ben tries to leap back before they can see, but Mothma catches his movement and surprisingly invites him inside.

"It's alright, Ben. No need to hide." A bit sheepishly, Ben rounds the corner again, this time a bit more slowly and he's relieved to see both women smiling fondly at him, although the grin doesn't seem to quite reach their eyes. Leia beckons him forward and he obliges, quickly crossing the room to gravitate into her side, letting her wrap an arm around his shoulder.

"We were just talking about the house we've been given to stay in here." Ben raises his eyebrows in surprise at that, lifting his head up to glance upside down at his mother once again.

"A house? Really?" His mom's smile grows at that, reaching down and gently brushing away the curls that had begun to fall in his eyes.

"Yup. Just for us." Ben loved the Falcon, but the ship could get to be claustrophobic at times. In all of the chaos that had happened in the last couple of days, he'd felt like he was having trouble breathing anyway and that stuffy thing didn't do much to help him.

He looks up just in time to see Mon Mothma hold out a small silver key, plain looking and simple and his mother takes it gratefully with her free hand, enclosing it in her palm.

There's an exchange of more words that Ben doesn't really focus on before he finds himself being escorted out once again, only this time Leia reaches down and takes his hand instead of his shoulders. The change of pace calms him down and he finds himself inadvertently tightening his grip, following obediently as they begin their journey through the town.

It's separated into distinct sections; one for bigger, more important buildings like the hospital and flight hangar, a market of sorts with a smattering of bars and clubs here and there, and towards the end is where the main road begins to taper off towards the village.

It's not very big but Ben had grown up on a pretty populated planet, so he figured he didn't have much to base his judgement off of. The homes aren't nearly as nice as the ones he'd come from but he didn't mind much; they were sturdy and still standing, which was more than what could be said for his old one. He feels a pang of discomfort painfully sear through his chest at the thought of his old bedroom turned to ashes and rubble, and quickly pushes the images out of his mind.

The thing he likes most about this village, though, is the lack of separation. Back at home, it became clear to Ben at a very young age that he was privileged, in more ways than one. His parents were famous, had good paying jobs and money stored up from God knows what, and a huge house that he'd grown up running through and getting lost in. His home had always been separated from his friends'; something that had been annoying when he wanted to visit them. It wasn't until they came to see him that he realized how well off he actually was, what with their astonished faces and gasps of admiration.

After that, he began to notice other things; the way his clothes were always perfectly fitted and clean, how his broken toys were replaced immediately and he was never lacking in food for lunch. As painful as it was to realize how naive he'd been, Ben never regretted it. If anything, he was happy to have the opportunity to help his friends. He knew that his mother had been fighting to get better resources for the people on their planet; the repercussions of the war were still going on, even all those years later. It was, arguably, pretty lofty stuff for a 7 year old to come to terms with, but Ben was smart. He'd always been bright, just like his father loved to remind him.

Ben likes how the houses seem to all look the same here, save for the fact that some were one story and others two. He watches in quiet fascination as they pass by them, peering through open windows and cracked doorways to see families living comfortably inside. There's a handful of kids but none that he recognizes, but the prospect of making new ones excites him a little. He tries not to feel guilty, trying to believe deep down that his friends are all probably still at the hospital, but it creeps up anyway, like bile in his throat.

Fortunately, at that exact moment is when they reach their new home, and Ben nearly stumbles forward as Leia motions to stop him at the doorway.

"Whoa, careful there." His mother swings their arms back gently, allowing Ben to tighten his grip on her hand and center himself again. "Thinking too hard again?"

Ben takes a moment to ponder this, realizing that it just answers his mom's question before nodding, looking up and giving a small smile.

"Yeah, sorry." Leia smiles fondly down at him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead before straightening up again.

"It's alright, you've always been a thinker. Ever since you were a baby." Ben doesn't comment on this, instead letting go of his mom's hand and letting her step forward to unlock the door to their new two story house.

It's the same clay color on the outside as the building they'd been in earlier, but the inside is nearly barren. Ben steps inside first, the air around him cool and dry without the sun beating down upon them. Directly in front of him is a long hallway, the stairs on his right and what he assumes is a sort of dining room to his left. Further down he spots a kitchen, and he can see a couple basic appliances from his limited view. The inside of the place is mostly cream colored, with accents of brown here and there on the walls and on the wooden floors. It's a stark contrast to the black and white house with tile floors he'd grown up in, and he absolutely loves it.

Leia informs him after shutting the front door that the bedrooms are upstairs, and he can have first pick at which one he wants. He nearly trips over his own feet again scrambling to run up the steps, eagerness and excitement taking the best of him.

Eventually, after a few moments of internal debate, he chooses the one with the most windows to look out from. Both rooms have a standard size double bed to them, and with an unfortunate amount of difficulty he's finally able to push it towards the wall furthest in the back, with all of the windows on it. He throws himself upon the mattress in exhaustion, slightly sweaty but pleased nevertheless, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment.

When he opens them again it's dark outside, and Ben has to lay there for an entire minute before realizing he'd fallen asleep. He sits up quickly and instantly regrets it, his head spinning for a few seconds before he manages to climb off his new bed and crosses the room, pushing his door open and trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

It's quiet in his new home, and further down the hallway he sees the door to the other bedroom cracked open slightly, light spilling out of it. Ben internally kicks himself for keeping his shoes on before attempting to tiptoe towards it.

He has to squint slightly once he peeks through the open doorway, his vision finally unblurring to see the figures of both his parents sitting up on the bed. His father is leaned up against a mountain of pillows, looking better than he did this morning but arguably still exhausted. He's talking quietly, and Ben watches his mouth for a few seconds before remembering he's entirely useless at reading lips. He instead diverts his attention to his mother, who is sitting at Han's left side and gently dabbing at something on his arm with a cloth, probably a wound that the bacta tank had trouble healing completely. She isn't speaking but instead nods every few moments, more focused on what she's doing with her hands than what her husband is saying.

Ben decides not to say anything at first, instead just allowing himself to watch his parents. It's a habit he formed when he was younger; the sight of them always did wonders to help calm him down. His parents' love for each other was always so evident in the way they interacted, and even at his young age it was something he'd learned to appreciate.

Leia finished up with whatever she'd been doing to her husband's arm and leaned backwards to put her cloth and other supplies on a side table behind her, and Ben watched as Han examined her handiwork by lifting his arm and squinting his eyes a bit, making a comment that made Leia smack him in the shoulder with an amused smile on her face.

"Shut up," he could hear his mom retort, and he began to see his father lean in for what he could only assume was a kiss.

Better to stop them right there.

Ben strolls inside just as it's about to happen, smiling innocently and trying not to laugh at the way his father nearly falls forward on his face as Leia sits up.

"Good morning, sleepy." Ben smiles at his mother's voice, letting his eyes dart to his father's slightly disgruntled face for a second before he's leaning himself back against the pillows, trying to come off as casual as can be.

"You should really learn to knock," Han states, and Leia looks for a moment as if she's about to respond before she pauses, shrugging a bit before nodding.

"Yeah, you're right." She glances back towards Ben and smirks a bit. "You almost caught us making out."

Ben gags dramatically at that, shaking his head and climbing into the bed amidst his parents' laughter, crawling into the small space between them.

"You're gross," he states matter of factly, flopping down against the pillows and folding his arms over his stomach as Leia reaches over and runs her finger through his hair, wrinkling her nose.

"Sheesh, so are you. You need a bath," she comments, letting her hand fall after a moment. "Your uncle is coming to visit tomorrow."

 _Ah, here it is,_ Ben thinks to himself, keeping his face as blank as possible before glancing up and raising his eyebrows a bit to feign surprise.

"Uncle Luke? How come?" His mother doesn't respond at first, instead busying herself by tucking a lock of his dark hair behind his ear.

"Just wants to check up on us. Talk to people about what happened, help us try and figure out what's going on…" Her voice trails off suddenly, as if she fears she's said too much and Ben watches her dark eyes flicker towards her husband for a brief moment before they're down on Ben again, giving him a gentle smile. "Plus, he misses you."

Ben isn't convinced; of what, he isn't quite sure. He can't help but feel a bit suspicious at the arrival of his uncle. It's not like he doesn't love him; Ben is always excited for his visits, despite how rare they are. He knows deep down that the Jedi Temple keeps him busy, given that he had to start the entire thing on his own just a few years ago, and it's nearly impossible to leave. However, special circumstances allow him to visit when he can, although Ben still doesn't quite understand why they can't just come to him sometimes.

He mulls this over in his head, too enthralled in his thoughts to respond out loud and he leans back slightly, glancing over to see his father messing idly with the wound he assumed his mother had been cleaning earlier. Ben isn't sure if he's simply just not paying attention or avoiding the subject; it could honestly be both.

Before Ben can further debate this, he feels his mother's arms suddenly wrap around his waist and hoist him up into her lap, squeezing him tightly to her chest. "God, Ben. When did you get so big? I remember falling asleep with you on my chest when you were just a baby."

Ben feels his cheeks flush suddenly, rolling his eyes to try and mask his embarrassment despite the fact that his mom can't see his face. His father can, though, and Han is grinning from ear to ear when Ben catches his eye, having abandoned his wound and leaning against the headboard.

"Yeah, kid. You used to fit perfectly on one of my arms." Ben wiggles incessantly in his mom's lap, eager to leave and flee the room but she merely tightens her grip, pressing her cheek against the top of his head and crooning.

"Oh my love, my sweet little baby Ben…" Han is smirking now, chuckling amusedly at his son's growing but futile attempts to leave and Ben is practically screaming as the older man leans forward and starts to tickle him, joining in with his wife on the teasing. His yells of protest dissolve into giggles quickly, and even faster into laughter, loud and contagious and bouncing off of the cream colored walls.

Ben closes his eyes, and for a moment he's home again.

At some point in the evening they all fall asleep again; Ben isn't really surprised, considering they've arguably been through a lot in the last couple of days. When Ben wakes up again he's sandwiched in between his parents, protectively guarded on both sides.

It's really dark now with most of the lights out; he moves his small hands around carefully in order to find a spot to push himself up at, finally pressing his palms against the bed and sitting upwards slowly, eyes adjusting to the lack of light.

He makes out his mother's face first; peaceful and relaxed, fast asleep with her injured arm up and resting against her chest. She's propped up on a mountain of pillows to Ben's right, her head tilted towards the opposite side of the bed and he realizes his father's hand is tangled in her hair, long fingers twisted through the brunette locks.

He looks just as exhausted as he did before, dark circles beneath his eyes that make Ben want to yawn despite himself. He's on the edge of the bed as well, one arm reaching out towards his wife and the other halfway draped over Ben's torso, an attempt to keep him there safely.

For a moment Ben just sits there, his sleep addled mind still struggling to function. It feels like the middle of the night, and he's honestly a bit annoyed at how he randomly woke up.

There's a door that leads to a small balcony on the other side of the room, and Ben can see the faded light spilling in from outside, a colorful disarray of all the different moons culminating into one color. Very slowly and methodically, Ben finds himself carefully untangling himself from his parents' arms and slipping down the mattress, feet eventually hitting the floor and carrying him outside.

It's not cold on this planet, which is another reason he likes it; there's a slight breeze but it's warm against Ben's skin, soothing him slightly as he sits down on the hard concrete and staring out at the city before him.

There's gaps between the bars on the balcony, too high for him to stand and peer over but wide enough for him to see through when he sits. The black metal is sturdy and rigid, contrasting slightly with how worn down the building looks. It's hard to see in the dim lighting but he can make out the smooth pattern of bricks on the walls around him, lightly colored and running all the way back down towards the ground.

He's never been afraid of heights but Ben stays cautiously away from the railing, the tip of his toe pressing into the cold metal for a brief moment before he's pulling his leg back. A few feet behind him the door is cracked open slightly, a little too scared to cut himself off from his sleeping parents entirely.

Ben doesn't notice the soldier at first; he's busy surveying the skyline, wondering if the tiny houses and buildings hold any of his friends from back at home, if any of them actually made it out. He takes his time, taking note of every twinkling light from every window he can see before his eyes wander down towards the road beneath him, following it back towards the dilapidated courtyard below his balcony and onto the silent, unmoving and helmeted silhouette of a figure in black.

He blinks a few times, wondering if his tired brain is playing tricks on him but the person never goes away. They're standing rigid, holding some sort of large stick at their side and when Ben cranes his neck slightly to peek from around one of the poles he can see the unmistakable shape of an axe at the top, feeling his blood run cold at the sight.

He's got his small hands pressed against the cold concrete beneath him before he can think, pushing himself up to stand and he's nearly back through the doors when he hears the voice for the first time.

_Stop._

He freezes without even thinking, like his body is acting on its own accord.

The voice had not been spoken out loud; he'd heard it in his head.

Ben can feel his heart pounding anxiously against his chest, swallowing down a lump beginning to form in his throat as he stays still with his back turned, eyes scanning the dark opening of the balcony doors in front of him.

 _Go inside,_ he thinks impatiently to himself. _Wake up Dad, tell him what's wrong. Close the doors and lock them up. Don't be stupid._

He nervously fidgets with the bottom part of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between his thumb and index finger and begins to move his foot slowly, turning his front ankle and angling it slightly.

His head starts throbbing out of nowhere, a deep ache in the back of his skull beginning to seep its way through his neck and down his spine. Ben paces the slow steps he takes forward towards the balcony with the staggered breaths he takes, too scared to leave but too proud to cry. The figure below him hasn't moved once, head still tilted slightly upward to stare at him through a black helmet. Despite being so far away Ben can feel the soldier's eyes boring into his skull, folding his arms over his chest in a feeble attempt to keep himself steady.

For a few moments, they're locked in a sort of staring contest; Ben almost feels trapped by their gaze, the warm air doing nothing to alleviate the goosebumps that have suddenly appeared on his skin.

He wants to yell but he isn't sure he remembers how to; his mouth tastes sour and dry and he's pretty sure if he tried to speak nothing would come out. The soldier shifts their weight slightly as Ben struggles silently, leaning against their weapon with an ease he can only describe as nonchalant, calm, unphased.

_It's been awhile, Ben Solo._

The sudden use of his full name makes his heart skip a beat, a pit of dread settling down into the bottom of his stomach. Not being able to see the person's face somehow makes the entire situation scarier, and Ben swallows nervously in the silence that follows.

Speaking out loud seems useless, but Ben isn't quite sure how to communicate with the soldier any other way. He clears his throat, hoping silently that his voice isn't trembling when he talks and opens his mouth.

"What do you want?" He's surprised at how loud he is; the town is silent in response, despite the fact that his voice seems to echo slightly. Even with an absurd amount of moons in the sky Ben can't help but feel lost in the darkness that surrounds him, somehow edging in closer and closer towards him.

The soldier remains motionless, still casually leaning against their axe and for a moment, Ben wonders if the person even heard him.

 _No,_ he thinks to himself. _They did._ He's suddenly very aware of the way his palms are growing slick with sweat, trying his best to casually wipe them on the bottom of his shirt. The soldier seems to notice this, and Ben can swear he hears them laugh at that, suddenly freezing up as they begin to move again.

_Are you scared?_

An abrupt wave of anger overtakes him then, clenching his hands into fists at his side before he's even aware of what's happening. He's surprised at the sudden shift in mood; it burns deep within his chest, and he can't recall a time he's ever been this livid before.

The soldier visibly bristles at this, standing up straight and tightening their grip on their weapon, still staring up at him on the balcony.

"Good, Ben." They speak out loud for the first time and Ben is startled at their gruff voice, deep and almost lithe in tone, seemingly belonging to a man. He frowns at the words, loosening his fists so that his fingernails aren't digging into his palm any longer.

The soldier takes a step forward, helmet briefly reflecting part of the moonlight towards Ben's face and he stumbles backwards immediately, bare feet sliding against the concrete. Again the incessant voice echoes through his head, another sharp pain searing through his skull.

_Get angry at me, Ben. Let that feeling in, let it take over. It's what you were meant to do._

Ben can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly now, short breaths escaping his nose and all he can feel are the hot whips of panic beginning to tighten all around him, squeezing his ribcage and rendering him completely useless and motionless.

_Come down here, Ben. Don't you want to know how you saved your mother from dying?_

"Ben?

The sound of his father's voice behind him nearly sends Ben jumping out of his skin, gasping loudly and whipping his entire body around. Han is standing in the doorway with his hands up and his eyes wide, scanning his son's posture for a split second before lowering his arms. "Are you alright? What happened?"

His father's voice lowers dangerously on the last words, immediately stepping forward and leaning over the balcony to look around. Ben can't seem to move, his feet feeling glued to the spot and when he glances down, his hands are shaking so badly that he immediately shoves them into the pockets of his pants, clenching them into fists once more to try and mask it.

He holds his breath, waiting for his dad to start interrogating him about the blatantly armed soldier staring up at them but Han simply straightens up and turns around, rounding around Ben's left to stand in front of him again.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone out here." Ben feels himself blanch at that, blinking rapidly at his father for a few moments before turning around and taking a tentative step forward, peering through the bars to the empty street beneath him.

 _He's gone,_ Ben realizes slowly. _Like he vanished into thin air._

He feels his father's arms on his shoulders then, pulling him out of his thoughts and back to reality and he lets Han turn him so that they're face to face again, kneeling down on the ground and holding him steady. "What's going on?"

 _I wish I knew,_ Ben thinks to himself, but he keeps his face as calm as he can, keeping his trembling hands deep within his pockets. Han raises an eyebrow expectantly, and Ben knows he's growing more and more suspicious by the minute so he quickly sucks in a breath, calming himself best he can.

"I was sleepwalking," he states simply, keeping his tone neutral. "Had a bad dream, and when I woke up I was out here." He pauses for a second, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. "I guess I was talking to someone, I can't really remember." It's not much of a stretch; Ben's been sleepwalking since he was a toddler, and although it's been awhile since his last spell he figures that the amount of trauma he's been through in the last couple of days would be more than enough to awaken it again.

Still, his father doesn't seem too convinced; Han keeps his hands on his shoulders, scanning his face with those hazel eyes and Ben manages to keep his face as stoic as possible, not about to let his father seem him crack. It feels like a century passes, and Ben is convinced his heart is pounding so loudly that everyone on the entire planet can hear before he finally lets go, sighing softly in response.

"Gonna have to start locking the doors again, huh?" Ben lets out an internal sigh of relief and nods almost numbly, immediately leaning forward and letting his head collide with his father's shoulder. He smells faintly of antiseptic but his normal scent is still there, embedded into his shirt and Ben latches onto this, linking his arms around Han's neck and closing his eyes.

He might be grappling with a million different things right now, and both of his parents might've almost just died, but at the end of the day Ben is still seven years old (almost eight), and seven year olds still need their fathers.

He finds himself back in the bed, in the same spot he'd crawled out of earlier, letting Han pull the comforter up to his chest. His mother stays asleep and his father follows not long after, yet Ben spends most of the night staring up at the ceiling, his brain going a mile a minute with thoughts he can't even begin to comprehend.

At some point he manages to fall asleep again (or maybe it's just pure exhaustion knocking him out at this point), but the bright morning sun streaming through the bedroom window wakes him up regardless.

He squints as soon as he opens his eyes, groaning a bit and turning his body away from the source. He barely has time to realize the bed is empty before he hears the door open, glancing up through hooded lids to see his mother peeking inside.

"Oh good, you're up." Ben scowls a bit at that, turning his face back down towards his pillow and burying himself in it. The light footsteps of his mother echo faintly across the wooden floor before he feels her surprisingly strong arms wrap around his waist and hoist him out of bed. "Time to shower, stinky. Your uncle doesn't wanna smell you like that, and neither do I."

Ben fights back a smile despite himself, allowing Leia to carry him awkwardly out of the bedroom and down the hallway, pushing a wooden door open with her foot. "Shower first, then breakfast." Immediately Ben feels his stomach rumble, suddenly recalling how he'd been too exhausted and busy to eat more than one meal the day before. As soon as the door shuts he's yanking off his clothes, hopping into the shower and gasping when the cold water hits his skin.

Eventually it warms, and Ben finds himself almost therapeutically scrubbing himself clean, letting his mind wander as the room slowly begins to fill with steam.

Maybe he could talk to Uncle Luke about the man he'd seen last night. Weren't Jedi supposed to know how to solve pretty much any problem? Not that he knew exactly what was going on in the first place; Ben wracked his brain trying to remember details about the soldier that had been standing outside last night.

 _Black helmet, black robes, deep voice, huge axe...not much to remember._ Ben busies himself with rinsing soap out of his long hair, scrubbing his fingernails against his scalp a little too harshly, as if trying to scrape more information from last night out of his brain. Maybe he'd visit again...at least this time he could ask him more questions without being so scared.

When he finally makes it downstairs he finds his parents alone in their tiny kitchen, and his father is dangling a piece of food above his mother's head, out of arm's reach.

"Better cover your stomach," Ben says nonchalantly, rounding the corner and making a beeline for the counter, already eyeing the plates of food within reach. He hears his father question his comment and looks up just in time to see Leia shove him forward, watching the older man hunch over in response as she grabs the piece of food he'd been teasing her with.

"And this is why you're my favorite child," she comments lightly, taking a bite of what Ben assumes is a piece of meat before sitting down at the table, watching her son wrinkle his brow in confusion.

"I'm your only child," he retorts, ignoring his father's over exaggerated groaning and sitting in a chair across from her, trying not to salivate all over his plate and mentally debating what to eat first.

Han finally straightens back up, dramatically still holding onto his stomach and Ben is pleased to see the color returned to his cheeks and the bruising on his body pretty much gone. "Keep that up and we won't be able to have any more children," he directs towards Leia, who simply smirks and finishes her food.

Ben pauses with a mouthful of eggs, letting his gaze flicker back and forth between the two adults, raising an eyebrow. "More?" he questions, nearly losing some of his food in the process and Leia shoots him a slightly annoyed look before leaning back against her chair, tapping her fingers against the wooden tabletop.

"Is that a problem with you?" she asks teasingly, but Ben can hear the genuine question in her voice. Asking him without directly asking. _How would you like a sibling, Ben?_

Whatever response he was going to formulate is forgotten by the sound of the front door opening and heavy footsteps echoing down the hall for a moment before he sees Luke appear in the doorway, pointing his thumb over his shoulder and behind him. "Do you always leave your door unlocked like that?"

Ben barely manages to swallow down the rest of his breakfast before he's dropping his fork and leaping from his chair, crossing the room in probably record timing to collide into his uncle's legs. "Uncle Luke!" He feels his hand collide slightly with the hilt of his lightsaber attached to his belt as he wraps his arms around his waist into a hug, and hears Han huff loudly from the other side of the room.

"Where's my greeting like that every day, huh kid?" Ben hears Luke laugh above him before returning the hug, squeezing him tight before letting go and Ben lifts his chin up to glance up towards him.

"He just loves me more," Luke responds, reaching down and ruffling his hair. "Are you ever gonna stop growing, by the way? At this rate you'll be taller than me in a year."

"Clearly he gets that from his father and not us," Leia responds from behind him, and Ben hears her cross the room before she's at their sides. "And no, I left it unlocked so that your little Jedi brain wouldn't get confused and try to knock it down." Luke rolls his eyes in a way that reminds Ben of his own mother, smiling and letting go in the process.

Ben is cautiously optimistic throughout breakfast that his uncle's visit isn't anything unusual; he doesn't seem upset, which is a good sign. He keeps quiet and mostly lets the adults talk all morning, trying his hardest not to inhale his breakfast in fear of his mother swatting him on the back of his head. Their conversation is normal, and they don't even begin to talk about the attack back at home until the meal is nearly finished.

"Have you been able to find anything out?" Luke's tone is light but Ben can still hear the concern in his voice, and Leia looks grimly at him for a moment before shaking her head.

"Nothing yet. We haven't been able to talk to many people, most are still in the hospital and a lot of people just…" Ben watches his mother's hand fly up towards the back of her neck, scratching absentmindedly at the skin there like she always did when she was nervous. "Well, let's just say we don't exactly have a survivor count."

He acts like he didn't hear her, which is pretty much useless considering Leia is sitting not even a foot away from him. He tries his best to act like he's interested in the bit of toast he's got left on his plate, picking it up and shoving it in his mouth despite the fact that he's so full he could puke. Fortunately, no one says a word to him and he listens as the conversation continues on.

"Same with us. There's been whispers of uprisings here and there, but nothing fully formulated." Luke pauses then, and Ben is prepared to hear the usual 'why don't you go to your room for a little while, sweetheart' comment when his uncle suddenly decides to speak directly towards him. "What do you remember from that night, Ben?"

 _Everything,_ his brain replies instantly, but he keeps his mouth shut and swallows his toast, letting his dark eyes flicker up to meet Luke's face across the table. His gentle eyes are staring calmly back at him, arms folded on the tabletop and leaning forward slightly with interest. He feels his parents' gazes on him as well, but decides not to dwell on their presence.

"Um...well, I woke up to fire." Instantly Ben can feel the heat again, smell the smoke that tightened his lungs and hung around in his hair until he'd managed to scrub it out in the shower that morning. "From outside, I mean. I don't think our house was on fire then, but it was later when we were running out."

Luke simply nods at that, his expression unchanging and Ben takes that as a cue to continue. "Mama picked me up and carried me outside, and Daddy followed us. I saw people running and screaming and soldiers in white shooting at them." A flicker of pain seems to cross his uncle's face at that, and he hears his mother sigh softly at his side. "That's when they got Mama, right in the arm and we fell. They surrounded us," Ben lifts his hands up at that, making a small circling motion in front of him. "We couldn't move, and then I-"

 _And then you what?_ Ben couldn't explain what happened then; he didn't even understand it himself. All he knew was that one moment he was about to get shot, and the next he saw the soldier flying backwards into the snow, his blaster skidding across the ground.

Ben feels his heart rate begin to pick up speed and quickly starts fidgeting with his hands beneath the table in an attempt to get it to stop. He doesn't break eye contact with his uncle, hoping that his poor attempt at a power move will be enough to get him to move on from the subject.

Luke doesn't say anything for a while, seeming to scan his face intently for something. Han is a couple feet away from him, leaned back slightly in his chair with his arms folded over his chest. He feels his mother's gentle hand come to rest atop his shoulder, temporarily drawing him away from his anxiety.

"It's okay, baby." Her tone is soothing as always. "Just tell us exactly what happened. It's important that we know, so we can figure out exactly what's going on.." Ben isn't sure if she's referring to the attack or to Ben himself, but his mother has never needed to work hard to persuade him to talk. He exhales slowly though his nose, digging one of his thumbnails into the opposite palm.

"And then I pushed them away. Threw them back, I guess. Not with my hands...well, I guess, kind of with my hands?" Ben feels his cheeks beginning to burn red with embarrassment, stumbling over his words like a child as he tries to better explain himself. "There was this...feeling, in my chest." He places his hand on his sternum as if to better explain himself, although he's almost positive his parents and uncle know where the chest is on a human body.

"It wasn't bad, not really. A little scary, but mostly good." Ben pauses then, furrowing his eyebrows and he realizes he's no longer looking at Luke, but instead at a spot on their kitchen table, an indent made into the wood at some point in time.

 _Do they think I'm crazy? I mean, I think I'm crazy. I'm not making any sense._ Ben inhales a slow breath through his nose, still picking relentlessly at his fingernails in his lap before he lets it out, shoulders slumping forward. "It was like...that feeling in my chest told me what to do." _You're definitely crazy._ "I put my hand up without thinking and then suddenly they were gone, even though I didn't touch them." _I'm getting sent off to some crazy hospital after this. I hope they'll let me take my blanket._

There's a long silence that answers him when he finishes, and Ben is too embarrassed to even look up. The burning in his face seems to be never ending, and he wishes he could sink into the floor and disappear for good. Even in the quiet room he still feels like he can hear his family judging him, their silent gazes almost audible in his head.

His uncle is the first one to speak up. "That feeling…" He stops, and Ben can't help but look questioningly up at him, blinking slowly in response. "It came back later, didn't it? When you were on the Falcon and you were trying to help your mom?"

All at once the metallic smell of blood hits his nose like a battering ram, and Ben feels his breakfast threaten to come back up his throat at the vivid memory. Fortunately, he doesn't think his family notices, and he's able to give a curt nod in response, swallowing thickly.

"Yeah," he answers shortly, pursing his lips. "She was still bleeding, and nothing was working." He realizes then that Leia's hand hasn't left his shoulder, and he feels it slide down his arm gently before squeezing tightly, a silent act of motherly reassurance. "The feeling came back, and it told me to hold onto the spot and don't let go." He frowns deeply at the thought, realizing then how dumb the entire notion had been. "I wasn't thinking. I don't know why I thought it would help-"

"Ben, you saved your mom's life." Ben chews on his lip at that, letting out another sigh and shaking his head.

"Daddy told me that earlier, but I don't get it." He lets his eyes find Luke's again, holding his gaze seriously for a moment. "What did I do to her?"

He thinks he's imagining it at first, but once he blinks in an attempt to clear his vision he realizes that his uncle is smiling slightly at him, the corners of his lips barely turned upward.

"You healed her," he states calmly, then backtracks a bit. "Well, partially. You got her bleeding to stop so that she'd be able to get to a hospital on time."

 _Maybe I'M not the crazy one,_ Ben mutters internally, lifting his hands from his lap and pressing them against the top of the table to help him sit up straighter. "That's not true," he says almost exasperatedly, tilting his head to the side slightly. "It's not real. People can't just heal each other like that." Maybe in another life he would have believed it, but in Ben's world he knew that if this were the case, a lot less people he knew would be dead. The war wouldn't have lost so many soldiers.

He can feel his legs beginning to go numb beneath the weight of him sitting on top of his calves, hoisting himself up slightly to alleviate the pain and it's when he has his palms pressed against the worn wooden tabletop that his uncle speaks again.

"Most people can't channel the Force like you can, Ben." He says it so seriously that his first instinct is to laugh in his face. He doesn't, luckily; instead Ben freezes in place, eyes still glued to Luke's face with a permanent frown on his lips.

 _That's not funny,_ he thinks angrily. _Only Jedi can use the Force, and I'm not a Jedi. I'm just a kid. I'm not a grown up and I don't have a lightsaber and I definitely don't know how to heal people._

And yet, for a moment, Ben briefly considers the idea that his uncle's words might actually be true. He isn't sure why; his mom DID stop bleeding, he could agree on that. And whether he believed it or not the soldiers had been flung backwards back home, and in his panicked mind he had attributed that to Chewie, despite the Wookiee still being several yards away at the time.

"Only Jedi can use the Force," he states as calmly as he can, trying to avert his gaze as best he can, choosing to stare at a spot he's begun to pick at on the table, scraping a bit of resin off of the wood with his fingernail. "Like you."

He feels his mother lean forward and press a kiss to the side of his head then, her hand gently cupping the back of his neck to hold him there for a split second before she pulls back and stares at him until Ben turns his gaze slightly towards her.

"And like you," she says simply, giving him a small smile. "You don't have to be a Jedi to use the Force. Some people are just born with the ability to feel it, or use it." She pauses then, and Ben can see her internally debate something for a moment before dropping her hand from his neck. "Like me."

Ben's eyes widen at that, scanning her face in confusion and when he jerks his head around to face Luke his uncle is nodding in agreement from his chair. "It's true," he adds. "Your mother's been Force sensitive for her entire life."

"I just can't use it," Leia interjects quickly. "I was never trained like your uncle was. But, that feeling you were talking about? I know it well." Ben blinks slowly at her, still trying to process this information as she reaches forward and cups his cheek gently in her hand, giving him a strangely sad smile. "I feel it with you, my love. Used to just think it was a mother's instinct, and maybe some of it is, but we're all connected through the Force, Ben. Sometimes it's like I can feel everything you're feeling."

Ben is suddenly aware of how fast his heart is racing, the onslaught of information overwhelming him like a wave. For a moment all he can do is stare blankly at his mother, trying his hardest to process everything.

 _Why didn't she tell him?_ Maybe she hadn't known that Ben was Force sensitive, but why would she keep the fact that SHE was away from him? Without thinking he whips his head around towards Han. "Are you a Jedi too?" he snaps almost angrily, although he isn't even sure why he'd be upset with his father. Han gives a small smirk at that and shakes his head, sitting up a bit.

"No, I'm just plain old Correlian. No Skywalker blood in me." His face takes on a serious look then, holding Ben's gaze in only a way a father could. "Ben, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with you." Slightly relieving to hear, but Ben still feels uneasy.

Had his family really kept this from him? He didn't think the Force was genetic; every single story he'd heard had seemed completely random, different beings scattered across the universe waking up one day and being able to move objects with their mind. It was wild enough that his uncle was Force sensitive, but his mother too? It didn't make sense. His mother was amazing, but she wasn't Jedi material.

Leia seems to catch onto this in his silence, and she takes the opportunity to reach over and place her hands on either side of his waist, steadying him in his chair and bringing him out of his thoughts.

"We should've told you before," she says simply. "I should've told you that I was Force sensitive. Your father and I, we didn't really see any signs of it in you as a baby, so we figured it skipped you." Ben swallows at that, watching his mother place a hand on the side of his face and stroke his cheek gently. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

He can hear the pleading in her voice, as if she's already decided that he's upset with her. Ben has no idea what he's feeling; anger, disbelief, shock, glee, sadness. Maybe it's all of it and maybe it's none. He can barely handle one emotion at a time as it is.

He finds himself suddenly grabbing a hold of the edge of the table and pushing his chair backwards, so abruptly that it startles his mother and she lets go of his waist. His head is starting to ache, loud pounding in his eardrums threatening to overtake his thoughts.

_Get out of here. Just go. Get away from them so you can breathe again._

As soon as his bare feet hit the tiled floor he begins to run, making a beeline for the front door. He can hear his family calling out his name, his father's loud voice cutting above the rest and asking him to stop but Ben is already out the door, his long legs carrying him across the front yard and down the dirt path that leads to the rest of the village.

The gravel rocks dig into his skin and he's probably bleeding but it's the last thing on his mind; his lungs are burning and his heart is still racing in his ears, in his fingertips, in his entire body. For just a few moments, all he focuses on is the wind in his hair and the warm breeze outside, eventually diverting his path into the large grassy field on the outskirts of town.

If anyone saw him running, they didn't try to stop him. To be honest, Ben couldn't even remember if people had been outside or not. It was still somewhat early; most of them were probably asleep or eating breakfast. When he finally stops it's in the middle of the grass, several meters away from the town and amongst a tall bush of flowers.

Ben lets himself flop down onto the ground, his legs burning from all the running and he lays on his back, taking in sharp gulps of air to appease his lungs. He closes his eyes, blocking out the bright sunlight and digs his fingernails into the dirt beneath him.

_You can use the Force. So can Mama. You healed her. With the Force. You saved her life. With the Force. You threw that soldier backwards so we could escape._

_With. The. Force._

It sounds dumb enough reciting it in his head. Ben's mind wanders back to the stories his mother and father used to tell him when he was little so he'd go to sleep, the ones that he was sure they'd make up about little boys and girls finding out how powerful they actually were, and about Jedi masters who fought during the war. He knew that the Force was real, but he figured you'd have to be someone really special and important to be able to use it.

That wasn't him. He was just Ben Solo.

His parents were important, his uncle was famous, even Chewie was well known and sought after. But Ben? He was like any other kid; went to school, had a bedtime, a small group of friends to play with. If there was anyone on his home planet that should have the Force, it wasn't him.

He finally opens his eyes and squints immediately at the sun, lifting a dirty hand to block it out above him. There's no clouds in the sky today, and he can see some of the moons in the distance, faint but visible.

 _What now?_ he thinks glumly to himself. He still isn't quite sure why he ran; he mostly blames it on how overwhelmed he'd suddenly become. Until recently, he'd had a tendency to lock himself in his room when he was upset or distressed, much to the displeasure of his parents, who he knew were only trying to help. He couldn't help it; everything seemed to shut down when he reached a certain point and all he wanted to do was isolate himself, so he did.

Ben lets his hand fall back down towards the grass, letting the warm sunlight hit him directly now. He doesn't blame his mother for not telling him about her Force sensitivity; he was already embarrassed at his reaction. It just...it didn't make sense. None of this did.

He wasn't angry at her for having it, or even for keeping it a secret. It wasn't something he needed to know, really.

So why was he so shaken by it?

Once the burning in his lungs has stopped, Ben sits up slowly in his spot, ruffling some grass out of his curls as he does. He can't see the village anymore, or even the road he'd diverted from. The plants were tall enough to keep him masked, so much so that he felt secluded. He pulled his hands into his lap, glancing down at his fingernails and beginning to pick the dirt out from beneath them.

 _We thought it had skipped you,_ his mother had said. Like it was just some sort of harmless trait, like inheriting his mother's brown eyes and his father's curly hair. Ben sighs at that, flicking away some mud off his thumb. This was something bigger, something that was important. Ben suddenly felt like the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders.

What was he supposed to do now, now that he knew? Just go on living and ignore it like his mother? That was tempting; it could be something he kept in his back pocket, using it in emergencies only.

 _No, you wouldn't know how,_ he combats internally. _You have to have training for that._

Ben freezes at the thought, his brain going silent for a moment.

_Am I supposed to become a Jedi now?_

He's spared from the sudden influx of panic he knows is about to overwhelm him; in the distance, he can hear his mother calling out his name, echoed by his father and uncle's deeper voices farther away.

He swallows the fear that's rising in the form of bile in his throat and pushes himself up to stand, surprised at how shaky his knees have become. He can nearly feel his mother spot his head as soon as it pops up above the grass, a loud gasp confirming his suspicion.

"Ben!" He turns just in time to see Leia rushing towards him, trekking through the tall grass with her short legs to get to him faster.

_Don't let them know you're scared. Don't let Mama know you're scared._

His mother's embrace nearly knocks him off his feet, grabbing onto her waist for balance.

"Ben, you know you can't do that!" He wants to wheeze at how tightly Leia's squeezing him but he refrains, feeling her grip eventually loosen.

"I know, I'm sorry…" If he's being honest, he's really not, but she doesn't need to know that. Han and Luke catch up moments later, and Ben can already feel his father's angry gaze on the side of his face.

"Ben. Come on." Despite his breathlessness Ben still understands the annoyance behind his father's words, avoiding his eyes and instead watching the way his mother takes his hands in her own.

He lets his gaze finally meet her eyes after a few seconds, and is startled to see tears in Leia's eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you," he begins rapidly, shaking his head. That was at least true. "I just...I got overwhelmed, and needed to leave-"

"Ben." His mother's voice is surprisingly soft, the loudness that had been there before suddenly gone. He closes his mouth almost instantly, letting his back teeth dig into his tongue anxiously as he awaits her next words.

Her hands find the sides of his face again, cupping them ever so gently and God, he wishes she'd stop crying. Why is she crying?

Ben watches a small tear escape down her cheek, right past her lips and slipping off her chin. "It's okay. I'm not upset with you. You just...you can't run off like that anymore, okay? I know you were scared and needed to be alone, but...next time, can it just be your bedroom you run to?"

He feels himself crack the smallest smile at that, which seems to be enough for his mom; she pulls his face in for a kiss and then holds him in another embrace for a few seconds, allowing him enough time to hug her back.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she murmurs into his ear. "It's a lot to take in. We won't talk about it anymore today, okay?" _Not today,_ he thinks. _But it'll be brought up again. It's never going away now._

His father still looks annoyed about the whole running thing, and Ben really doesn't blame him. Eventually he warms back up during the trip home, once Ben gravitates away from his mother and towards Han's side instead. Luke doesn't say anything the entire time, which Ben figures is normal. Not his kid, not really his business to parent him.

Still, the silence on his uncle's part is a bit strange. Ben doesn't really get a chance to dwell on it for the rest of the day, and instead they spend it giving Luke a "tour" of the planet for a few hours. It's not much to see; Ben figures the entire place would take about an hour to look at, but with the amount of stops they take it's nearly sunset when they get back.

The last part of their journey had been back to the building where he and his mom had seen Mon Mothma the day before; once again Ben had been sent outside while they deliberated, although this time he was joined by his father.

It would've been amusing had Ben not known otherwise, but Han had never been one for planning and discussing things. He simply went wherever he was told to go, which was a whole lot of faith to put into people. With his mom it was obviously different, but Ben couldn't think of anyone or anything else he'd blindly pledge his allegiance and faith to than his own family.

"Are you ever getting a haircut?" Ben smirks from across the hall at his father's question, the two of them sitting against adjacent walls outside of the room. He scoots himself forward in response and hits his foot against Han's shoe.

"Are you ever gonna take me to get one?" Han scoffs at that, dramatically waving his arm towards Ben.

"You've got legs, you can walk somewhere." Ben smiles at that, reaching up and running a hand through his tangled curls.

"I'll just cut it myself." Han lets out a low whistle at that almost immediately, shaking his head.

"Absolutely not," he states, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Ben a look. "You did that once as a toddler and your mother still hasn't forgiven me for it."

Ben lets his shoe hit his father's boot once more, still smiling fondly at the response. He keeps silent for a while, watching his foot bounce back and forth in a rhythmic, swinging motion.

Behind him, he can hear the muffled voices of his mother, Chancellor Mothma and Luke. Whatever it is they're saying, he can't make out.

"Something on your mind?" His father's voice almost sounds cloudy, and for a brief moment he's taken back to the night on the balcony, when the only thing he could clearly hear was the voice of the soldier in his head.

' _Get angry at me, Ben. Let that feeling in, let it take over. It's what you were meant to do.'_

Ben inhales a slow breath through his nose, staring down at his foot and tries to focus on the noise his shoe makes against his father's boot.

"I'm just worried." _Thump._ "About the attack. About what's gonna happen." _Thump._ "It's scary, I guess." _Thump._

He listens to his father sigh, and it's the same sigh he's heard a thousand times. The _I don't know what to tell you, kid_ sigh.

"You don't need to worry." _Thump._ "Your mom and I are going to take care of you, like we always have and always will." _Thump._ "Nothing bad's gonna happen to us, and this'll all be over soon." _Thump._

Ben moves his hands backwards then, pressing his palms onto the floor and stretching them out so that he's nearly got his back on the floor, tilting his head upwards to stare at the ceiling. He feels his fingertips meet the edge of the wall behind him, holding his weight there for a few seconds.

"I know," he says simply. "It's just hard to believe sometimes."

His father doesn't respond to that.

They return home, and Ben holds his father's hand the entire time. Dinner is normal; at least, as normal as he'd expected. There's still a sense of tension around the family, and no one seems to want to do anything about it. Eventually, his mother is able to start up a conversation about old stories they had during the war, something that Ben has always been fascinated by. By the time the meal is over, Ben has nearly forgotten about the conversation this morning.

"This planet was definitely one of the better bases we stayed at during the war." Han finishes his drink and sets his cup down, leaning backwards in his seat and Ben watches him smile at his wife from across the table. "Remember that stash of booze we found in the basement of the bunker we stayed at?"

Leia's cheeks instantly flush red at the question, and Ben watches his mother struggle to finish taking a sip of her own drink before setting the glass down on the table and giving him a dark glare.

"Unfortunately, I do." Ben glances to his left and sees his father lean over to Luke and whisper something in his ear, the two men laughing like children and Leia rolls her eyes, pushing her chair back and standing up. "Time for bed, Ben."

He isn't tired, but he knows better than to try and argue with his mother after the trouble he'd caused this morning. He follows her up the creaky stairs and towards his bedroom, still very much empty but calming nevertheless.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with your father," she muses, after getting him to change and tucking him into bed. "Or your uncle, for that matter."

"They're funny!" Ben argues back, pulling his hands up so that they're resting on top of his blanket.

"They're _children._ " His mother's voice sounds annoyed but Ben can tell she's fighting back a smile, reaching up and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. "And you need a haircut." Now it's Ben's turn to roll his eyes, letting his head flop back against his pillow.

"Yeah yeah, I heard that already today." Leia laughs softly at that and leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I'll take you tomorrow, I promise." More words are exchanged and goodnights are said, and Ben finds himself laying in the dark a few moments later, staring up at his white ceiling.

 _So,_ he thinks to himself. _A Jedi, huh?_

Being a Jedi isn't the worst job in the world; in fact, Ben considers that to be one of the best ones in the galaxy. His friends had always fantasized about being able to use the Force.

"Can you imagine being able to use a lightsaber?! I'd become the best fighter in the world!"

"All of the secret missions you'd go on...I'd explore parts of the galaxy no one's ever seen!"

"The Jedi are all about helping people, Ben! Doesn't that sound amazing?"

His friends had never really understood his lack of desire towards becoming a Jedi. They all knew who his uncle was, and most didn't get why that deterred him slightly. He didn't want to be the same person that Luke was; he wanted a choice, at least.

And what he'd chosen (at least at this point) was becoming a pilot like his father.

It didn't make much sense, considering that he'd deferred from any sort of Jedi talk because of his uncle, but he LIKED what his father did. He enjoyed the lessons he was given on the Falcon, he loved learning about the different ways to fly, about how different ships worked, and all the moving pieces behind them. Han's job was important, too; he'd been a Rebellion hero in the past, and still was. Ben would consider that a result of helping people any day.

He tilts his head slightly to glance out the window beside his bed, catching a glimpse at some of the moons floating in the sky. If he was being honest with himself (which he rarely was), he was scared to be a Jedi. The job itself was glamorous, sure, but he didn't know the first thing about using the Force, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to learn at all.

Ben thinks back to the soldier in black again, feeling himself shiver slightly beneath his blanket. No doubt they had used some sort of Force ability to speak to Ben that night, and they'd known about him saving his mother after the attack.

That's what he was afraid of; becoming someone like that. Someone evil, someone with too much power on their hands. Someone that Ben hated.

 _You don't have to train. They can't force you._ Ben sighs and turns onto his side, staring at the stream of light coming in from his slightly cracked bedroom door. _You can be like Mama; be able to use it but choose not to._ It didn't seem that easy but he told himself to believe it anyway.

It was going to be impossible to sleep; Ben counts up to 100 and then back down again before he gives up on the task entirely, freeing himself from his cocoon of blankets and stepping down from the bed, careful to keep his steps light. If his parents were asleep, he could sneak into bed and try to doze off there instead; he usually had better luck with that.

Ben pushes his door open slowly to prevent the hinge from squeaking, walking slowly towards his parents bedroom to find the door wide open, and the bed completely empty. Before he can frown he hears noise coming from the first floor, slinking down the rest of the hallway before he can change his mind.

He can hear them before he even gets downstairs; they're not exactly yelling, but their voices are louder than they probably should be.

"I think you're being over dramatic." His mother sounds…annoyed? Angry? Upset? Ben can't quite place it but knows it isn't good. Carefully, he takes another step down and tests his weight against the wooden steps, no sort of squeaking sound greeting him in response. Quickly he ascends the rest of the staircase until he's at the bottom and sits down on the last step, a few feet separating him and the slightly cracked open doorway down the hall.

"I'm not saying this to upset you, Leia." Luke's calm voice has a tinge of sorrow to it, and Ben finds himself frowning a bit despite not knowing the subject matter. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't absolutely have to."

Leia gives a short, humorless laugh at that, and Ben can almost picture her shaking her head. "You just HAD to, huh? You don't think this is something that's been haunting me since the day he was born? Since before he even WAS born?"

There's a beat of silence then that feels enormously heavy, even from all the way in the hallway. Ben tilts his head down slightly in thought, brow furrowing.

_Are they talking about me?_

His father's voice is the one to break the tension; "He's still young, Luke. Just because you had a dream doesn't mean it's finalized. Haven't you said before that people's fates can change in the blink of an eye?"

Ben watches the shadows from within the room begin to shift, can hear someone get up from a chair and start to pace, silhouette dancing along the floor of the hallway outside the door.

"Yes, that's true, but think about his bloodline, his heritage. It all adds up, does it not?"

Leia's sudden raised voice nearly sends Ben out of his skin, jumping so hard his knee makes contact with the banister at his side.

"Just because you're a Jedi does NOT give you the right to condemn my son to something he doesn't even know exists!"

His mother's words seem to linger in the air around him, long enough to thicken it and make it harder for Ben to breathe. His breath feels trapped in his chest for a few seconds, suddenly well aware of his rapid heartbeat and quick pulse.

_So it IS me they're talking about._

Ben isn't exactly sure what condemn means, but the word sounds bad enough. The way Leia had spat it out like it was poison was enough context to figure that out; still, he isn't sure why they're arguing in the first place. It was one thing to hear his parents bicker, but their words never carried actual hurt, actual pain. The way his mother was speaking had taken a completely different route, one that he'd never heard her use and certainly not one he'd ever imagined her using on her brother.

Ben manages to shake away the nervous feeling in his stomach for the time being, eager to listen to whatever else his family has to say. Carefully, he grabs a hold of the bannister to his right with a small hand and hoists himself up slowly, just in time to hear them start speaking again.

"I'm just looking out for him, Leia." His uncle's voice sounds tired, exasperated in a way that seems to surpass just lack of sleep. "I love him, you know I do. It's because I love him that I'm saying this to both of you. It's not a crime for me to protect my nephew."

"What are you protecting him from exactly?" Ben is shocked at how little his father is chiming in; his mother seems to be dominating the conversation. "From his family tree? His bloodline, like you called it earlier? How can you protect him from that, Luke?"

Silence again. Ben is half tempted to run upstairs and hide beneath his blankets for the rest of his life.

Leia's voice is strangely strained when she speaks again. "If you know, please tell me. I've been trying to figure out how to keep him safe from his grandfather since the moment I found out I was pregnant with him."

 _My grandfather?_ Ben frowns again, taking a small step forward from the stairs to get closer towards the door. _Did I hear that right? I don't have a grandfather._

Luke sighs at that, heavy and forlorn. "All I can do is try and train him, get a head start now so that temptation is never discovered, never seen. Kill it before it has the chance to speak."

"And if that's not enough?" Ben stares down at the ground, wincing at the shortness of her mother's reply. He hears Han sigh in exasperation, another chair being pushed against the wooden floor.

"It will be enough." His father's voice is definite, has a final note to it that Ben can only assume is a fervent attempt to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "It has to be enough. If he gets a head start with...all of this, then we've already got an advantage." Ben can make out the short, slender figure of his mother by her shadow on the floor, watching his dad's eclipse her into a hug. It's calming, even if it's just for a split second, to see the way their shapes seem to blend into one another.

"Let me take him to the temple, just for a day or so. Let him get a feel for things. I won't take him unless I get both of your blessings." Luke speaks calmly and is immediately cut off by his sister's sharp words.

"You're damn right you won't." Ben can't see his uncle's face but can only assume he's slightly hurt by her tone by the way he doesn't speak for a few seconds, another tense silence falling over the room.

Ben slowly allows himself to sit back down again, his hand sliding down the side of the staircase as he does. _A temple? Like...a Jedi temple? He's taking me there?_

The thought of leaving his parents for longer than a day was enough to send his stomach churning, let alone going off to train there on his own if it came to that. Even with Luke accompanying him the prospect was terrifying; he loved his uncle very much, but he was a Jedi. He could take care of himself, if anything were to happen.

Besides...it wasn't what he wanted. He knew that people didn't always get what they wanted in life, but this seemed like a very big thing to gloss over.

Ben knew his parents were tough; he didn't know exactly how tough, but time and time again they'd proven to be able to get themselves out of sticky situations. His mother was important; she was in charge of a lot of people, and his father was always travelling on important missions, ones that Ben had come to realize were more dangerous than he let out to be.

Deep down, he knew they'd be alright, but every time Ben looked at his mom he saw the way she had been bleeding out on the floor of the Falcon, could feel the way she'd touched his cheek and could hear the panic in his father's voice when she wasn't responding any longer.

What if that happened again, and he was gone? What then?

The little bit of light coming from the dining room down the hall is enough to illuminate his hands, and Ben finds himself slowly curling and uncurling his fingers in his lap, watching the way his knuckles move beneath his pale skin.

_You saved Mama that night, even Uncle Luke admitted that. What if she gets hurt again, or Daddy? Who's gonna be there to save them then?_

Ben is so entranced by his thoughts that he almost misses the ending of his family's conversation completely, zoning back in just in time to hear his mother speak.

"He can't know about this. I've spent my entire life trying to escape the repercussions of our father...we both have. I don't want him to live with that burden." There's a pause then, and Ben is suddenly aware of the fact that he's holding his breath. "Darth Vader isn't going to define his grandson like he did his children."

All at once, Ben feels absolutely nauseated.

For a moment, Ben tries to convince himself that he's dreaming; that he's still upstairs in his bed, fast asleep and wrapped in his blankets and that this is a painfully real nightmare. He still hasn't let out his breath; he can feel his chest beginning to sting from the lack of air to his lungs.

_Darth Vader? THE Darth Vader? The one that tried to wipe out all of the good people in the galaxy?_

Ben hasn't exactly had a crash course in history at his age but people talk, and kids even more. He knows it hasn't been very long since the last war ended; his mother once told him he was born right around the first anniversary of it. She never went into detail about what her and her father had been through during it, and honestly he didn't want her to. Kids from around town heard his last name and automatically knew who his parents were, expecting him to know all of the answers to their questions about them. He never did.

But this? Surely, someone would have told him this by now.

This is the same man whose name was rarely even spoken aloud, the man who'd been dead for years and yet still held people by the throat. Kids were scolded if they talked about him, adults were too scared to even bring him up at all. Ben had learned about him very briefly, from one of the girls that lived a few houses down from him on their old base.

" _He was the worst of the worst, the baddest of the bad. He wore a black cape and a helmet and could Force choke people out of nowhere! My dad saw it happen once. He created the Death Star and blew up planets FULL of people, without even caring. We finally defeated him at the Battle of Endor, the one your parents were at!"_

Ben had been curious to know more, but the rest of their friend group had grown visibly uncomfortable, scared of the topic. The repercussions of the war were seemingly never ending, and Ben secretly knew that most of his friends' families were broken as a result of it. Aunts, uncles, siblings, even parents had been lost due to all of the fighting. Ben was lucky; he still had his family, albeit a bit small. At least they were all still alive.

And at least his grandfather hadn't succeeded in killing his own children.

Still jarred, Ben somehow managed to pull himself up to stand again, and just in time too; the door to the dining room was beginning to open, bright light spilling down the hallway and towards the staircase. For a split second, Ben considers bolting back upstairs but knows his footsteps would betray his location. As quick as he possibly can, he manages to jog up a few steps and puts on his best sleepy face, even adding in a faked yawn for effect, before slowly beginning a sloppy descent back down the stairs, rubbing his eyes just as his family rounds the corner.

"Ben? Sweetheart, what are you doing up?" His mother sounds genuinely concerned, and he silently applauds himself for looking so convincing. He tilts his head up and glances up at the adults in front of him through hooded lids.

"I don't feel good," he replies easily, which isn't entirely a lie; his stomach still aches with the information he learned just a few moments before. "Can I sleep with you and Daddy tonight?"

Han replies immediately. "Of course you can, kid." Ben feels the familiar touch of his father's hand on the top of his head, combing through his long hair soothingly. Though his lashes he sees his mother give him a soft smile, running her thumb along his cheek fondly.

"It's been a rough couple of days...I think we all need some sleep." Leia lifts her head then, and Ben catches the way she shoots her brother a glance, one that he isn't sure how to read. Luke looks more exhausted than anything, merely staring at her for a few seconds before tilting his head down to look at Ben.

"Feel better, alright? I'll see you in the morning." With that he watches his uncle ascend up the stairs to the spare bedroom, noting the way his lightsaber hangs almost threateningly against the side of his leg, bouncing with every step until the door is shut behind him.

Ben holds onto his father's hand the entire way down the hall and into his parents' bedroom, silently debating what to say or do.

_I can't just...ask them. They'd know I was listening. I'm not supposed to know anything. I have to keep my mouth shut. I have to keep lying._

_But...am I supposed to lie about this for the rest of my life?_

_Asking what they were talking about would just let them know I was listening; I was supposed to have been asleep. And suddenly asking about my extended family would be a red flag, too. I've never shown any interest in them before._

_How am I supposed to act clueless for the rest of my life, when I already know the truth?_

Ben is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice his father let go of his hand, or hear his mother calling his name multiple times.

"Ben? Honey, are you listening to me?" He snaps his head up suddenly, blinking at his mother's concerned face, a frown on her lips. "What's the matter?"

 _Quick, think of something._ "Sorry...my head hurts, too." He hears Han give a sigh at that, turning his face to see him sit on the edge of the bed.

"Again? We'll have to take you to a medic droid tomorrow." Ben remains silent, watching his dad methodically start taking off his boots before his attention is drawn again by Leia kneeling down in front of him, taking his hands gently in her own.

"I think you're just tired, baby. We all are." She lifts her hand up to cup the side of his cheek gently, and Ben's eyes flicker to the bandages still wrapped around her upper arm.

Leia seems to notice this, because before he can look away she's scooping him up with her good arm and tossing him lightly onto the bed at his side, getting a startled laugh out of him in response.

"Hey!" he interjects loudly, feeling himself bounce against the mattress on his back. Before he can sit up again he's in his father's grasp, strong arms pinning him down and pulling him into his lap with one swift move.

"Hey what?" Han teases childishly, and Ben tries squirming out of his grip in a fit of giggles, smacking his arms with small palms.

"No fair!" he manages out, just as he feels his mother's gentle hands on his sides and stomach, tickling him mercilessly with no intent on stopping. For a few moments, Ben is the same kid he was a few days ago; happy, carefree, ignorant of how strong he was with the Force and unaware of his family tree. He's just a kid, with two parents that love him, and a house that hasn't been destroyed in an attack and friends that are still alive.

It's gone before he can even start to miss it.

When Ben sleeps in his parents' bed, it's always in the same way; with his back against his father's chest and his head sharing the same pillow as his mother. That night is no different; he curls up beneath the warm blankets and feels Han pull the covers up to his shoulders, while Leia begins to comb through his long locks with gentle ease, soothing him to bed. He closes his eyes, but sleep never comes.

Surprisingly, it isn't the revelation of his grandfather's identity that's troubling him most. Honestly, he thinks his brain hasn't processed it yet. Every time he remembers, he feels like he's about to throw up.

_What if they try to send me off with Uncle Luke tomorrow? I'm not ready to leave home._

Ben figures it's a childish way to think, but he's only 7 years old. As much as he'd like to think that he could leave his parents for an extended amount of time and be okay, he knew that wasn't the case. He wanted to believe that it was so he could protect them, but he wasn't fooling anyone but himself. If the training didn't kill him, the homesickness would.

God, the training. If what he'd heard was true, his uncle would be asking him to leave as soon as possible. He had been adamant on helping him train before...what, exactly?

"Kill it before it has the chance to speak," he whispers almost silently to himself, furrowing his brow at his uncle's words. He tries his best to recall what was said; his father had mentioned Luke having a dream, one that he could only assume had been about himself. His uncle had said he would be tempted by something, and his mother had used that word condemn. She'd been audibly upset, which worried Ben the most; whatever it was they were speaking about had caused a rift between the twins.

Ben keeps his eyes closed until he hears the gentle breathing of his mother begin to take over, signaling she'd fallen asleep. His father wasn't far behind, his chest rising and falling against Ben's back after a few minutes of silence. Slowly, he lifts his lids and blinks, adjusting his sight to the dark room and makes out his mother's sleeping face a few inches away from him.

_Did you know, when you were my age? Did you know Darth Vader was your father?_

It didn't make sense; how could someone as evil as him be the parent of someone like his mother? Ben assumed he hadn't actually been a "father" to her at all, but still; knowing that someone that evil, that hated, was related to you? Ben wouldn't know what to do with himself.

_But...he IS related to you. If all of this is true, then you have some of Darth Vader's blood running through your veins._

Ben sighs and catches himself before he gets too loud; his mother doesn't stir from her sleep at his side, and he can still hear his father's gentle breathing from behind. Very carefully, he manages to turn himself onto his back so he's facing the ceiling, shifting beneath his father's lax grip. Ben turns his head to face Han, taking in his sleeping face with a frown.

_Do YOU have any evil parents I should know about, too?_

He knew in his heart he didn't; his father never spoke about his family. Ben had grown to assume the only family he had was him, his mother and Chewie, which was both very touching and very sad.

_You're not much different. You've got Mom and Dad and Chewie and Uncle Luke and...that's it._

And that's who he mother had too, now that he thought about it. He'd learned that the war had been jump started by the destruction of his mother's home planet, and had made a point never to ask her about it. It wasn't that he wasn't dying to know how life had been for her there; being a princess, learning about her parents, it all sounded fascinating, but he saw the way her face always seemed to fall when someone brought up Alderaan. That kind of wound was something that Ben was pretty sure would never fully heal.

He takes in his sleeping father's face for a few seconds more before looking back at the ceiling, letting his eyes follow a long, shallow crack in the plaster. He follows it down the length of the room and then some, imagining it stretching further and further outward and into the night. It floats on above the village, above the houses and the flight hangars and the trees and the creatures that live among them, and Ben finds himself missing home more than he has since he saw it burn up in flames.

Beside him his mother shifts in her sleep, rolling forward slightly and Ben feels arm arm move above his head, brushing against his hair. To his right, his father stirs as well, and he realizes his mother's hand has been outstretched towards Han this entire time, yearning for his touch even while unconscious.

Ben doesn't move, feeling his father loop an arm around him protectively again, and this time his fingertips reach Leia's waist, barely there but enough to reassure her.

 _Vader can't be related to me,_ he thinks to himself. _Look at who my parents are._

Eventually he falls asleep, and when he wakes up in the morning things almost seem normal. He takes his time methodically showering and getting dressed, and joins his family downstairs in the kitchen where breakfast is ready, but no one seems to be motioning to eat.

When he steps inside the doorway he can feel his chest tighten anxiously; whatever it was his parents and uncle had been talking about was suddenly dropped, all of their attention going towards him instead.

"Good morning, darling." Ben stays still and lets his mother cross the room and kiss him on the forehead, acutely aware of how his hair is still slightly damp and dripping down the back of his neck. If she notices, she doesn't say anything. "Your uncle wants to ask you something really quick, if that's okay."

Ben's mind is already so worked up over the 'so silent you could hear a pin drop' kitchen that he doesn't even react at first, staring at his mother for a few seconds before nodding a bit, unable to open his mouth.

It's not like his family makes him nervous, but Ben knows what this is about. his uncle is the one asking him something, and why his parents look like they're trying their hardest to keep their mouths shut.

Still, he manages to keep quiet and just let it happen, watching his mother move away and her brother take his place. Luke looks tired, which he really always has for as long as Ben can remember, but it's especially noticeable today. Ben contemplates panicking and asking him if he didn't sleep well last night for sake of stalling conversation but Luke beats him to the punch.

"I was hoping you'd like to go somewhere with me today, if that's alright, Ben."

 _Somewhere. How vague._ Ben doesn't react, instead holding his uncle's gaze for a moment before responding.

"Where are we gonna go?" He already knows the answer, but he figures it's best to play along for the time being. Luke seems to fight the urge to shoot a look towards his parents behind him, instead kneeling down in front of him on the floor.

"Back to my Jedi temple." _There it is,_ Ben thinks quietly to himself. His uncle looks so calm, so hopeful it's almost infuriating. The weight of everything that's being left unsaid hangs in the air around them, and Ben sucks in a slow breath through the nose to keep himself steady.

"I don't want to leave my family." _Not like you left yours,_ Ben thinks suddenly and sourly to himself, and manages to hold back a frown. He'd never felt ill will towards his uncle before; the Jedi didn't have much time for families, anyway. It's not like he enjoyed being gone.

Luke's face seems to soften at that, shaking his head quickly before sitting down on his knees. "No, you won't have to leave them for good. Just for a day, a quick trip to visit. You'll be back with your parents before the end of the night, I promise."

 _Huh._ Ben can hear his parents shift nervously on their feet behind him, and can feel Luke's eyes glued to his face in front of him.

A visit. Ben toys with the notion in his head, trying his best to keep a straight face, unreadable like his father's usually is. Visits were harmless; you didn't have to agree to anything if you were just visiting. He'd be back home before he could even fully miss it.

Plus...a visit to an _actual_ Jedi temple? His friends would be jealous for the rest of their lives. The prospect of coming home and telling them these elaborate (and probably loosely fabricated) stories about the place is almost enough to make him smile.

"...okay," he begins slowly, sucking in a slow breath through his nose before glancing up at his uncle again, pushing his curls out of his eyes with one hand. "Yeah, I'd like to go."

Luke smiles warmly at his response, nodding in agreement. "Good." Ben watches him stand again and tilts his neck back to watch his uncle speak to his parents again. "We'll leave after breakfast, if that's okay with you?"

Ben nods in response, although the suddenness of the trip is a bit nauseating if he's being honest. He takes his time walking over towards the table, pretending (probably very badly) to be interested in an old piece of art of a gundark on the wall behind adults have maneuvered over towards his left, a few feet away but he's always had good hearing.

"...careful with him, okay?" His mother's voice is always tinged with a hint of concern when she's talking about him, and Ben quickly decides his shoes suddenly need to be re-tied.

"Of course." His uncle's voice is serious now, taking on a slightly sterner tone. "He'll be in the best care possible, I promise you." Ben fidgets with his laces, taking his time in untying and retying them again before moving onto the next foot.

There's a pause then, and Ben is convinced they've caught onto him until his mother speaks again; Han is once again silent in the conversation.

"If he starts, you know...asking questions about his family tree…" She lowers her voice and Ben has to strain his neck to hear her, still keeping his gaze fixated on his shoe. "Don't tell him. Not about Vader. I don't think he's ready for that yet, and honestly...I don't think Han and I are either."

It takes all of Ben's inner strength to stay still, to will his shaky hands to finish tying his shoe before he stands up, feeling the cool air against his flushed cheeks.

_Lie to me. Just keep me in the dark for another few years. Smart idea, mother._

He doesn't want to be upset but he can't really help it; he tries his best not to glower at breakfast and knows deep down that he shouldn't be mad when he's about to leave but it's nearly impossible not to be. He'd have time to calm down before he got home in the evening, anyway.

His father and uncle seem clueless, but his mother notices. Of course she does. Ben can feel her eyes on his profile throughout the meal, but he manages not to look up at her the entire time. The smallest part of him feels bad, but the rest of him knows his anger is justified.

After what feels like an eternity Ben is finally outside, admiring the ship his uncle brought back with him from the temple. It's a great deal smaller than the Falcon, but still enough to room the two of them comfortably. Shiny silver with orange details jump out at him in the bright morning sun, and Ben finds himself running his fingertips along the outside of one of the wings without even realizing it.

Behind him he can hear his mother and uncle conversing; he doesn't bother to try and eavesdrop anymore. He's thankful when he hears his father's familiar footsteps approach him from behind, lifting his head up to smile.

"Hey, he says before Han can speak, turning his body to face him while the older man reaches over and ruffles his hair slightly, shaking his head.

"Couldn't get that haircut done in time, huh?" Ben rolls his eyes and dodges away from his grip, leaning against the side of the ship.

"I'll be fine," he retorts, crossing his arms. "I can still see perfectly fine."

"For now," his father replies easily, turning his gaze to face the ship. "Bet you'll never step foot on the Falcon again after riding in this, kid."

Ben gapes at him in response, sitting up straight and dropping his arms. "No way!" he splutters, watching Han laugh loudly at him. He's horrified his father would even insinuate it. "I love the Falcon!"

Han holds his hands up in a defeated sort of gesture, taking a step back before getting down on his knees. "Alright alright, chill out kid." Ben tries to glare at him but can't help but smile, and Han reaches out and tucks a curl behind his ear. "Listen…"

Ben watches his father bring his hand down to reach into his pocket and grab something, holding it in his enclosed fist before bringing it back up between the two of them, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I know you're just leaving for today, but I figure you're probably a little bit nervous." Ben purses his lips at that, not saying anything but nodding a bit in response. He can still faintly hear Leia and Luke talking a few feet away.

Han looks at him understandingly, tilting his head to the side slightly. "It's okay, you know. Just remember that." He reaches down with his free hand and takes Ben's own, pulling it up to meet his enclosed one. "When I'm nervous or scared or upset, I hold onto these for good luck."

Ben glances down as his father tips whatever it is into his palm, furrowing his brow in confusion before opening his fingers and looking down at a shiny pair of gold dice, connected together by a thin chain.

"Daddy, these are yours!" Almost immediately he finds himself shoving them back towards his father's chest, shaking his head. "These are for the Falcon, I can't take them!"

Han smiles fondly at him, letting Ben give the object back to him before shaking his head. "You're just borrowing then, Ben." He dangles them in front of his face for a moment before reaching down and placing them into his pants pocket before Ben can stop him. "Give them back to me tonight when you get home, okay?"

Ben's chest feels tight all of a sudden, though he can't quite place why. The weight of the dice against his leg is both calming and electrifying at the same time, and he finds himself reaching down and clasping at them tightly.

Han doesn't say anything, instead standing back up on his feet and Ben sees his mother and uncle approach just before Leia is enveloping him in a big bear hug.

"I'll see you tonight, my Benny boy." Ben makes a face at the childish nickname but hugs her back nevertheless, letting her press a kiss to his cheek before stepping back.

"He'll be back before you know it!" Luke chimes in, and Ben hears the ramp of the ship being lowered behind him. "Go on a date or something, my God." Leia smirks at that, shaking her head but she loops her arm around her husband's waist anyway, resting her head on his side.

"Mind your business, Luke. And take care of my kid!" Ben grins at her remark and feels Luke's hands on his shoulders turning him around and steering him towards the ramp, the two of them stepping on and going inside.

If the outside of the ship is pretty, then the inside is beautiful; a small cockpit in the front with two sleek leather seats greet him when he walks inside, along with a cargo hold that looks mostly empty and a shiny table with chairs near the middle. Ben can see a holomap floating a few inches above it, detailing the area of the galaxy they're in and he can see his little planet clear as day, just before it disappears entirely.

"Ready for takeoff?" Ben turns his head towards his uncle, already headed towards the front and he smiles to himself. If he knew any better, he'd think he was with his father.

"Ready when you are," he responds, taking a step forward and glancing out one of the tall windows on the wall behind him.

He can see his parents outside, although they've got their backs turned now and are walking away. They're holding hands and he watches Leia swing their arms back and forth, the two of them talking about something. His father laughs and his mother grins at that, and Ben feels the weight in his chest lift slightly.

The journey to the temple isn't eventful, and Ben is thankful for that; it gives him more time to stare out the window. He watches his new home planet grow smaller and smaller behind them, smiling to himself as they wind through all of the moons in orbit around them. He's sure they have to have names; Ben makes a mental note to ask someone once he gets back.

Once they reach a certain point he hears Luke announce from somewhere up front that they're making the jump to hyper speed and Ben is pleasantly surprised at the warning. He doesn't ever recall his father telling anyone he was using the hyperdrive until they'd been launched forward out of nowhere; he can almost feel the pain in his nose from his face making direct contact with a wall or chair in front of him during his childhood.

The hyperspace portion of the journey is surprisingly short; either his uncle's ship is faster than he thought or the temple is close to his home. Ben is still at the window when they come out of it and he gets a first view of the planet, green with large islands scattered amongst a big blue ocean that covers most of it. Mountains and hills pepper the land at certain points, with other areas covered in huge forests and grassy plains. It looks almost abandoned, and Ben is almost alarmed before the ship begins to descend and he sees the beginnings of a large temple starting to come into view.

The building itself is carved out of the side of a large mountain, and Ben can see a huge wooden door appear the closer they get. Regal is the first word that comes to Ben's mind; ancient, even. It's perfectly hidden away, absent from prying eyes and almost feels like it should be there in the first place. He wonders how many generations of Jedi have used it before, and a pang of excitement sears through his chest.

When Ben steps off the ship he's surprised at how cool the air is; slightly humid but pleasant nevertheless. It ruffles his hair and he can smell the faint scent of saltwater before he hears the voice of a child come from somewhere in front of him.

"Master Luke!" Ben looks up just in time to see a group of kids from all different ages suddenly approaching the ship, varying in height and size and even species. He's overwhelmed at the sight of other people his age, freezing up where he stands and he feels Luke slide past him to get ahead.

"Hey, I told you guys I'd be back!" They seem to pay no attention to this, instead choosing to swarm him and Ben has to jump out of the way to avoid being sucked into the crowd.

It's somewhat jarring, seeing his uncle being welcomed like this. The only children Ben had ever seen him interact with were himself and one time, his small group of friends. It was more of a stop and stare sort of meeting, and Ben had been shocked and somewhat embarrassed at his friends' inability to act any type of normal around him. As far as Ben was concerned, the Jedi hero Luke Skywalker was his uncle who told bad jokes and came around once a year if Ben was lucky. Still, he understood the admiration to a degree; he loved seeing his uncle when he could.

This was different, though; he couldn't tell what it was until he began to listen in on different voices within the crowd, all of them seeming to vouch for Luke's attention.

"Don't EVER leave Ransom in charge again, he sucks!"

"Hey, don't be rude! No one died, did they?"

"Master Luke, I learned a new spin trick with my saber!"

"Yeah, and she nearly took my head off doing it!"

"What took you so long? I thought you'd be back early this morning!"

"Hang on, is this your nephew?!"

Ben sobers back up fairly quickly at the mention of himself, straightening up a bit in his spot. As if on cue the entire group shifts their gaze and turns around to look at Ben, their faces varying in range from surprise to careful contemplation.

Luke manages to somehow break away from the masses and crosses over to take Ben's shoulders again, stepping behind and gently moving him forward. "Yes, it is," he responds, forcing Ben's reluctant feet to move until he's in full view of everyone on the ramp. "Meet Ben Solo. He's visiting us for the day, just to check things out."

The silence that follows is so awkward that Ben wishes he could shrivel up and die. If he counted correctly, there's exactly 15 sets of eyes staring back at him; Wookiee, Torgruta, and Twi'lek included. He slides an outside hand ever so slightly against the side of his pants, his fingertips brushing against the dice on the inside and sucks in a deep breath to speak when the mob explodes into sound once more.

"Ben! I'm Ransom, nice to meet you!"

"Wait, SOLO? As in HAN SOLO?!"

"His mom is the princess of Alderaan! The rebellion hero!"

"Oh my God, are you here to train with us?!"

"Hey, move out of the way, you're gonna suffocate him!"

Ben can do nothing but stand there, mainly because of shock but also the fact that he's incapable of moving. Luke's grip on his shoulders tightens and Ben hears him quickly begin to chastise the students before steering Ben down the remainder of the ramp, parting the crowd as he does.

"I told you guys not to overwhelm him." The kid named Ransom seems closer to his teen years than anyone else in the group, standing about a foot taller than the rest of his peers. He quickly elbows a Twi'lek girl beside him in the side and she grunts at that, shooting him a dirty look from the side as Luke continues speaking.

"Yes, my sister Leia is his mom. That's what nephews are, if you recall." His comment gets a ripple of amused laughter from most, and Ben feels himself relax slightly. "And yes, his father is Han Solo, but Ben can tell you he's pretty lame in real life." Now it's Ben's turn to crack a smile, the laughter from the rest of the students calming him down. "But Ben isn't here to talk about any of that, alright? He's here to watch what we do, to learn some things. Are we clear?"

There's a ripple of murmurs and nods throughout the small crowd, and Ben realizes that most of them are around his age. Aside from Ransom and a couple of kids who stick to Luke's side that look around 6, the majority of the students look to be between 8 and 12. He feels Luke finally let go of his shoulders and he takes a step forward, the crowd seeming to envelop him easily and happily.

The inside of the temple is just as impressive as the outside; all of the rooms inside are carved from the mountain around them, with sleek stone walls that are cool to the touch and echo their voices as they talk. The ceilings are well over 100 feet in height, the only source of light coming from a glittering display of colors above them.

"What are those?" he asks the Wookiee in his group, who is nothing but pleased to see that Ben speaks his language. He tells him they're Kyber crystals, the very same ones that power the Jedi's lightsabers, and that they've been growing inside the mountain for thousands of years.

"They're the ones we use for our own sabers," he continues, and Ben is awestruck when he watches him suddenly pull out his saber from his bag, igniting it with a switch and filling the space between them with the soft green light of the blade. "We have to retrieve them ourselves."

Ben blinks wildly, trying his best to figure out how exactly they were supposed to get one down from all the way up there but then he realizes everyone is rushing forward to where his uncle is, a few feet away in the middle of an empty stone floor.

He lingers back, unsure of what's happening but more curious than anything, sitting down on one of the steps on the staircase leading down towards the group. Like clockwork, each of the students gravitates toward a spot on the floor and they sit with their legs crossed, closing their eyes as soon as they're settled. Even the two younger ones manage to let go of Luke's hands and sit down, and Ben watches his uncle begin to pace.

"Meditation is important to the Jedi, and it seems like everyone here is in dire need of some this morning." Ben hears a handful of giggles in response but the students keep their eyes closed, straightening themselves up a bit while Luke keeps walking. "We do this every morning for a reason...I hope you didn't forget to do it yesterday while I was gone." The Twi'lek girl, who is only a few inches away from Ransom, takes this moment to lean over and elbow him in the side and Ben fights back a smile.

The entire thing is fascinating; he listens to Luke for the first few minutes as he goes into what he assumes is a memorized speech, going into detail about the Force as a source of energy that everyone has access to. What pulls him away from the words are the reactions from the students.

They've all fallen completely still and silent, little mirrors of each other with their crossed legs and hands balancing delicately on their knees. Ben would argue them to be frozen had he not been able to detect the almost imperceivable movement of their chests rising and falling with slow breaths.

Ben doesn't even notice his uncle has stopped talking until the older man is suddenly moving to sit beside him on the step, taking his time and bending his knees slightly.

"This is how we start every morning," he murmurs softly, stretching his arms forward towards his feet. "It's important to start the day with a clear mind or else any sort of training I try to give is going to go in one ear and out the other." Ben nods slowly in response, eyes still glued to the kids in front of him.

That made sense. If anyone were to benefit from dumping unwanted junk from their heads it was Ben; he thought too much and never vocalized it. He finds himself looking back up towards the ceiling again, the cool bluish light emanating from the crystals almost therapeutic.

Luke follows his gaze, and Ben can hear him hum quietly in response. "You'll get your own one day," he says easily. "If that's what you want."

Ben feels his stomach churn uneasily at that and he looks back down, fixating his gaze on one of the Torgruta girls. _I don't know what I want, that's my problem._

Mediation doesn't last too much longer, and Ben is pleased to see that the more exciting stuff begins to happen after they're finished. His uncle seems to have a set of drills put in place for the entire group, varying in difficulty for each age. They start off easy for the younger ones who aren't ready for sabers yet; Ben watches in pleasant fascination as they demonstrate different stances and positions for Luke, who in turn showers them with affection and praise.

They've formed themselves into a line by what Ben assumes is age; the further down they get, the more difficult and impressive the drills become. He watches in awe as children his own age demonstrate different lightsaber tricks that he only would've dreamed about doing before, varying from simple wrist flips to complicated twists and turns that involve the entire body. The weapons are powered off, but that doesn't make them any less impressive in Ben's eyes.

Once they complete going down the line, Ben watches them begin to divide themselves into pairs, and Ransom deviates to one side of the room with Luke trailing behind as he begins to speak.

"Good clean fights!" he urges. "I don't want any injuries today, and you all know better anyway." All at once the students with sabers begin to ignite their weapons, and Ben watches the room become illuminated with blue and green light. The handful of kids who are still too young begin to cross the room towards the staircase where Ben is at, sitting down on different steps to watch.

Ransom is paired with Luke, probably because his uncle is the only one closest to his height and Ben watches with bated breath as the two approach each other, sabers ignited and stances held. While the rest of the room begins their combat, the two oldest ones continue to stare at one another.

Luke makes the first move, diving forward for a strike that Ransom deflects easily, taking a step backward. He chooses a sideswipe approach, leaning forward on one foot and Luke easily combats it with a twist of his heel, sliding out of the way and letting Ransom come into contact with the open air instead.

It's like clockwork; they move easily and effectively, so much so that Ben thinks it might be choreographed. There's no malice to the fight; if anything, the two men look entertained by it. Ransom's toothy grin is hard to miss even as they begin to pick up speed, almost blurring together as their small practice space begins to grow bigger and bigger.

The rest of the kids slowly but surely begin to abandon their posts, all of their attention being deviated towards their master and Ransom. Before he knows it Ben is surrounded in his place on the steps by the rest of the students, all of them watching in hushed fascination as the fight continues.

Their movements become bigger, bolder; they now have the entire training floor to themselves. Leather boots echo loudly against the tall, stone walls around them with each step they take, and Ben can hear the dangerous hum of the lightsaber as it swipes through empty air. They're having to duck now, and Ben sucks in a sharp breath when he sees his uncle having to leap in the air to avoid getting his legs sliced off, but the two companions are still smiling. There's a nervous but excited air around him, most of the students whispering and giggling to one another, probably making bets on who's going to win or lose.

Ben is about to open his mouth and join in when a sudden loud thumping noise silences him again, watching Luke use his leg to sweep Ransom's feet from right under him and knock him right on his back, hard against the stone floor.

"Ha! I knew it!" The Twi'lek girl stands and pumps her fist in the air, pointing towards Ransom. "Not good enough to beat Master Luke yet!" There's a chorus of laughter in response, and Ben looks over to see Ransom rolling his eyes from his spot on the floor.

"Not yet, but someday!" he retorts breathlessly, tilting his gaze up towards Luke. "I gotta stop falling for that leg trick."

"Yeah, you do." Luke's voice is amused, reaching a hand forward and helping Ransom up with ease before turning to face the staircase. "I'm telling you all, I'm unbeatable!" Ben watches with a grin as the majority of the class stands in an uproar and begins to storm their way over towards Luke, all vouching for his attention by yelling protests.

Ben stays put, watching the crowd begin to envelop his uncle once more before seeing Ransom deactivate his saber and hooking it onto his belt, walking over and sitting down on Ben's left, wiping at his forehead.

"Like it here so far?" he asks, still slightly out of breath and Ben turns his head to face the teenage boy.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." He watches Ransom nod in response, leaning back slightly against the step behind him before Ben presses on. "How long have you been here?"

"Since I was...7, I think." He runs a hand through his blond hair before setting it back on the stone to help support himself up. "I was the first kid Master Luke found when he first started. I just turned 16."

Ben raises an eyebrow at that, turning his body to face him. "Wow," he breathes slowly, shaking his head. "That's a long time. Don't you miss your family?"

Ransom shakes his head, tilting his head to the side and Ben can hear his neck pop. "Nope," he replies easily, and Ben feels his stomach sink slightly. "Haven't seen them in years. They didn't really care much anyway when I left. One less mouth to feed." He shrugs a bit, looking as nonchalant as ever. "My dad died fighting in the war, so it was just my mom and all of us kids. She couldn't afford to take care of us, anyway."

Ben frowns at that, confused at how easily the words leave Ransom's mouth. _He's had time to grieve,_ Ben thinks. _All of this happened before you were even born._

He feels something being pressed against the side of his leg and he looks down to see Ransom's outstretched hand holding his lightsaber, lifting it up slightly so Ben can see it better. "Wanna look at it?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Ben reaches forward to take it, but he can't help it; he's only ever been able to hold his uncle's saber a couple times in his life. It's different from Luke's; darker in color and with a larger switch. It feels heavy in Ben's hands, and he finds himself rolling it back and forth between his palms.

Ransom leans back even further, apparently unbothered and very trusting of Ben with his weapon, resting his head against the step and yawning slightly, rubbing his eyes. "It's nice here," he says, dropping his hand to rest on his chest. "I like it, at least. Everyone here is going through the same thing you are, you know? We're all learning together." Ben doesn't respond, running his thumb along the metal rivets of the hilt. "I'm glad Master Luke found me when he did. I think if he would've left me there for a bit longer I would have fallen to the Dark side."

That caught Ben's attention. He jerks his head up and gets a laugh out of Ransom. "Careful with the saber, dude." Ben tries his best to play off his reaction, gripping the hilt a bit tighter in his hand.

"Why would you have fallen towards the Dark?" he questions innocently, and Ransom watches him carefully for a moment; Ben feels like he might be looking at him properly for the first time all day.

"There's a big difference between the Light and Dark sides," he begins slowly. "It's one of the first things you learn about when you get here. Like yeah, one's good and one's evil, but there's a difference in feeling too." Ransom pauses then, looking thoughtfully towards the rest of the students. "What does the Force feel like to you?"

Ben blinks at that, and he watches Ransom's profile for a few moments. _What a loaded question._

"Well…" Ben inhales slowly though his nose, furrowing his brow. "It comes from here." He raises his hand and places it on his chest. "At first. And then after that, it spreads around, down to my fingertips and toes." He shrugs a bit, part of him wondering wildly if he's even making any sense. "It's a feeling."

Ransom nods at that, sitting up a bit. "It's something that's always lingering there." He smiles and the gesture calms Ben slightly, although he isn't sure exactly why he's nervous. "That's how the Force is normally supposed to feel. Now, when the Dark side starts to tempt you…" He lifts his hand and waves it around a bit. "It gets all...weird. Doesn't feel right." Ransom sighs a bit and shakes his head. "See, before your uncle found me I was mad. Angry at the world, angry at the war, angry that I was where I was." Ben watches him pause them, and he realizes he's hanging onto his every word.

"When you get really upset, most people let their emotions get the best of them. They'll start yelling or crying, but then they'll be fine." Ransom tilts his head to the side and smiles faintly. "But it's different for us. When we get upset, it hurts. It's hard to hide."

Ben feels his eyes widen slightly at that, and hears Random laugh softly in response. "Did I strike a nerve there?" he teases, reaching forward and squeezing his shoulder gently. "It hits us harder as Jedi. Think of it as like...an extra layer to our emotion. Most people just have to get through the one and then they're okay, but for us it feels like everything else gets thrown out of whack."

 _Is this what it's like to make sense when you're talking?_ Ben feels like everything he's ever tried to explain has just come out of Ransom's mouth. He looks down at the saber suddenly, clenching it in his fist for a moment before holding it out towards him.

"Exactly," he murmurs, staring down at the step between the two of them. "I always just thought that was me." Ransom takes the saber from him gently, and Ben watches him hook it on his belt again.

"Not at all, Ben. All of us here have felt this way forever." He leans forward slightly. "When I was a kid, I didn't know any of this. And when I got upset...I'd use the Force for bad." His face grows a bit more serious. "I never hurt anyone or anything, but I came close. I'd get really mad and all of a sudden, things would start happening."

Ben raises his eyebrows, sitting up straighter. "What did you do?" _Throw a soldier backwards? Accidentally heal your dying mother from bleeding out?_

Ransom smirks slightly, looking amused. "Nothing crazy. Accidentally knocked down a statue in my town, and it got a lot of attention. I was smaller than you were, so no one believed I did it." He nods his head back towards the floor. "Everyone except your uncle."

Ben turns his head again to face Luke, taking a moment to fully look at him. He's knelt down on the floor now, talking to the two youngest students about something. He's always been a good listener; Ben used to love to talk his ear off solely because he knew he was always paying attention. That same undeviated attention is here now, nodding along to whatever it is the two girls are saying.

"He brought me here and I never looked back. I didn't find out until later that what I was doing was actually using the Force. Taught me how to control it, keep my emotions in check...he really knows how to take care of us."

Ben feels heavy all of a sudden; he sinks a bit into the stone steps beneath him, eyes still locked into Luke.

 _Is this where I'm supposed to be?_ When he woke up this morning, Ben hadn't planned on actually LIKING it here. But Ransom's words made sense, and he actually understood the thing Ben had been struggling to put into words for...well, forever.

And Luke...he loved his uncle. He did. He loved when he came to visit and he loved the way he always made him laugh and let him ask questions about Jedi stories and the war.

But did he love him enough to leave his parents and move to a temple until he grew up?

He doesn't voice any of this, and Ransom doesn't press any further. Part of him wishes he would.

The rest of the day goes by even faster than the morning, which is shocking to Ben; he struggles to bury down the uneasy feeling that's taken over him as a result of Ransom's conversation, but it never fully goes away. After lunch Ben sits in on a lengthy lecture by Luke about a specific chapter in one of the ancient Jedi textbooks, but he doesn't retain any of it and neither does the rest of the class it seems. He tries to look focused but his mind keeps wandering back to his home, his bed, his parents. Every time he looks at the Wookiee student his heart aches for Chewie.

There are more drills that he doesn't pay attention to, and before he knows it he's sat at a table beside Luke, shoving food around his plate at dinner and trying his best to feign an appetite.

His uncle doesn't comment at first, focusing his attention on the constant chatter of the kids around him and Ben is thankful, trying his best to pull himself together but Ransom's words keep echoing in his head.

" _When we get upset, it hurts. It's hard to hide."_

"Ready to head home soon?" Ben meets his uncle's eyes, looking away from his plate long enough to shrug.

"Yeah, I guess." _I'm dying to go home. Nothing makes sense anymore and I just want to go to bed._ Luke takes a sip of his drink, averting his eyes to glance around the table before setting it down again.

"It's a little overwhelming at first, believe me I know." He turns his shoulders a bit so that he's slightly closer to him, leaning forward and murmuring. "Take your time, Ben. None of this is going anywhere. Go home and think about it, okay?"

Ben lets a relieved sigh escape his nose, shoulders slumping forward slightly as he does. His mother had always told him he wore his emotions all over his face (very much unlike his father) and he was sure his uncle could pick up on that just as easily. He nods in agreement, glancing around Luke's shoulder before he spots a familiar sight in the distance.

"R2!" The blue and white droid comes rolling in out of a hallway across the room, beeping excitedly before sipping towards the table. There's a chorus of loud cheers and clapping from the students, all of them just as happy to see the astromech as Ben is.

Luke grins and scoots his chair over a bit, letting R2-D2 settle themself in between them. "Artoo's gonna take you home tonight on one of the small ships," he states, scraping up the rest of his meal onto a fork before shoving it in his mouth. "Just a straight shot through hyperspace back there, and then he can fly right back."

Ben is too enthralled by the droid's presence to give anything but a nod in response, giggling at Artoo's rapid, happy noises. He hadn't seen the astromech since he was still pretty young, and it was almost like no time between the pair had passed at all. Threepio would be pleased to hear their friend was still okay.

Surprisingly, saying goodbye to the rest of the kids involved a lot of hugging and pats on the back.

"I hope you'll come back!" The Twi'lek girl looks hopeful, her lightly colored eyes sparkling a bit as she smiles. "We'll miss you around here."

"Yeah, don't be a stranger." Ransom ruffles his hair playfully, smirking. "And don't forget what I said. There's always a place for you here."

By the time Ben climbs into the small X-wing, he's more confused than ever at his situation at hand. He continues waving until the clear door above him closes, muting out the loud voices from outside.

 _Sheesh,_ he thinks to himself, pulling on Luke's slightly too big helmet. _I'm gonna need more time to think._

Artoo beeps contentedly after a few moments, and Ben tilts his head down to glance at the control panel in front of him. He avoids the wheel, instead hitting a large orange button beside it that Luke had shown him and feels the ship hum to live, smiling happily to himself. _Visiting a Jedi temple AND flying an X-wing? No one's ever gonna believe this._

(And no one needed to know that Artoo was actually the one REALLY flying it, either.)

Ben keeps waiting until they're several feet off the ground, tearing his gaze away just in time for them to make contact with the clouds. He grins happily, watching the nose of the ship disappear into the fog momentarily and when they come back up he sees the huge array of stars beginning to appear in the distance. One step closer to home.

They exit the atmosphere and Ben lifts his hands up to adjust his helmet before the hyperspace jump but hears a loud swooping noise that stops him entirely.

"Artoo? What was that?" He turns his head slightly, debating on craning his neck to see if he can glimpse at the droid but is met instead by a huge, black ship looming in the distance, barreling directly towards them.

He's in shock for a moment; the sheer size and length of the thing is enough to render him speechless. Long and almost triangular in shape, Ben feels absolutely minuscule compared to it. He blink and the thing looks several yards closer, and he swallows thickly before finding his voice again.

"Did that thing just come out of nowhere?" The loud noise was similar to that of a hyperspace jump, and at the speed it's going at Ben can only assume that was the case. "We've gotta get out of here-"

His small hand hovers shakily over the control panel just for a second before all of the lights are suddenly off, the familiar beeping and hum of the engine gone. Ben frowns deeply, letting his eyes scan wildly for a way to somehow turn it back on but then he feels his head make contact with the side of his seat, wincing in pain before grabbing onto the wheel for stability.

It takes him a few seconds to process, but with Artoo's frantic beeping he realizes that whoever's on that ship has them stuck in some sort of tractor beam.

He fights with his now trembling hands to yank his helmet off his head, his breath coming in sharp little gasps as the gravity of the situation begins to set in. They're coming in fast, and he sees a small door beginning to fall open, pulling them inside just as Ben gets his seatbelt undone and they're pitched into pure darkness.

There's a heavy silence inside; Ben is acutely aware of his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms. A sudden jolt of movement elicits a gasp out of him, nearly colliding with the side of the x-wing again but he feels the familiar hum of hyperspace just for a moment before he's being thrust around again, and then going still once more.

_Oh, God. They took us out somewhere in hyperspace._

Artoo is the only source of faint light in the space, and Ben turns around in his seat to better see him, although it doesn't give him much of an advantage. "Artoo, are you alright?" The astromech beeps in response, and although Ben doesn't understand he figures that means 'I'm okay.'

He debates staying still; maybe playing dead would save his skin. No, that wouldn't work, they probably already heard him talk. He couldn't fight his way out...maybe they'd picked him up on accident? If he was truly his father's son, maybe there was some way of smooth talking his way out of this. Or he could pull the name card! People HAD to know who his parents were, or better yet his uncle-

There's a loud hissing noise that interrupts his train of thought then, looking up and squinting at the new stream of light coming into his very dark holding place. A door, very much like the one that had let him into the ship, is opening, revealing a steep ramp and all at once Ben suddenly feels nauseous, a sickeningly familiar feeling beginning to bloom from deep within his chest.

It's not the Force; not directly, at least. In an instant, Ben is taken back to that night on the balcony, with his shaking hands shoved into his pockets and his eyes locked onto the helmet of a soldier all dressed in black.

The very same one he was staring down right now.

He feels himself beginning to panic, pressing himself deeper into his seat and he has to choke back a gasp when the hatch door above him suddenly opens, and Ben sees the soldier's outstretched hand willing it to do so. He's about to protest but instead feels the very same Force suddenly grab ahold of his waist, squeezing out any remaining air he was holding in his lungs out before he's being hoisted out of the cockpit, unable to even kick his legs in protest before his feet hit the ground again.

Ben nearly topples forward once he's set down, gulping in a large gasp of air again. The soldier is still a few feet away, walking almost lazily towards him. The familiar axe is at his side, large and even more ominous up close.

_Don't panic, Ben. And DON'T cry, either. Just stay calm._

He hears Artoo's dramatic scream behind him, glancing over to see the astromech meet his same fate and the droid is dropped down right beside him. He can hear the footsteps of more people approaching, and he doesn't even need to look to know that, of course, _there's more of them._

Ben is still trying his best to catch his breath; he feels his chest beginning to burn, but it's the last thing on his mind. There's seven men in the room now, all of them dressed in the same black armor and masks as the first one who'd walked in. Part of him wishes he could see their faces, try and read what they were thinking; the other part of him is glad they're covered.

"Ben Solo." Immediately Ben feels a chill run down his spine, goosebumps rising on his arms and he resists the urge to pull them to his chest and rub his fingers over them. He swallows once more, never deviating his gaze from the man in front, the one who'd spoken his name.

His voice sounds calmer than he'd imagined it would. "What do you want?" There's an edge of defiance to it that reminds him of his mom, and apparently the soldier agrees, giving a short, dry laugh in response.

"Yeah, that's him. He's got his mother's bad attitude." He takes a step forward and Ben instantly takes one back, his clasped hands behind his back hitting the metal wall of the ship behind him.

"Hey, relax. We don't want to hurt you." _Bullshit,_ Ben thinks bitterly to himself. His mom would smack him upside the head if she knew he'd thought that word, but right now it hardly seems to matter. Instead he remains silent, tilting his head up as the soldier gets closer, still keeping his eyes fixated on his mask.

_If only I had a lightsaber! I could've taken one from the Temple, snuck it out in my pocket, then I'd really show them…_

Ben is mentally kicking himself for all the things he could've done differently, heavy stuff for a seven year old but he's doing it nevertheless, when the man suddenly stops directly in front of him and kneels down to match his height.

Ben can barely process what's happening right before it happens; the soldier raises his hands and lifts his helmet off his head, bringing it to rest on the floor to his side.

All he can do is stare, which he knows is rude but these guys aren't very nice so it doesn't matter.

He's younger than Ben would've imagined; looks younger than his parents but not young enough to be a teenager. Ben can tell that much through the scars that marr his face; thick scars across his left eye, and the opposite side of his face almost scaly in nature, like he'd suffered a terrible burn. His hair is a dirty blond color, his skin pale and he almost looks like a ghost.

Not quite, though; it's the eyes that let Ben know he isn't a dead man walking. They're a bright, golden yellow color.

The man's lips are disfigured but Ben watches him twist his mouth into what he assumes is a smile, but looks more like a smirk instead.

"Not what you were expecting?" His voice is different now that it isn't muddled by the mask; more human and less robotic. Ben keeps his mouth shut, feeling his palms beginning to grow slick with sweat against the wall behind him.

The man doesn't seem to mind the lack of response, lifting a gloved hand up again and Ben flinches when he rests his index finger above his right eyebrow, gentle and light.

"Oh don't worry...you'll get your own someday." Ben barely lets him finish tracing over his eye and down his cheek before he's pushing his hand out of the way and making a run for the door to his ship behind him; arguably not his best decision, as said door is guarded by the remaining six men.

He doesn't make it very far; before he knows it he's being caught around the waist and lifted off the ground by one of the other soldiers, his feet barely scraping the ground as he's whipped around to face the scarred man again.

He's still got that same smirk on his face, now facing Ben in the opposite direction and still kneeling on the ground.

"Wanna try that again?" Ben begins to wrack his brain wildly for options; what had his father told him to do in terms of self defense?

_Well...I can bite._

In hindsight he should've known better; his baby teeth (that were probably loose enough to fall out soon) weren't enough to penetrate leather gloves. Still, he tries, and it's enough to get an aggravated yell out of the soldier holding him, moving to drop him but Ben doesn't ever reach the floor.

It's worse than he imagined; all those stories he'd heard about Darth Vader...about his _grandfather_ , choking people to death with the Force...none of it had even come close to this.

By the time he starts gasping for air he's already being pulled closer, towards the blond man who has his arm extended towards him a few feet away, his fingers curling almost menacingly. Ben can barely feel the toes of his boots dragging along the tile, small hands desperately fighting at a pair of hands that aren't there around his throat.

_Make it stop! God please, make it stop, I can't breathe, I can't breathe-_

His knees hit the floor suddenly and he's practically gulping for air, his shaking hands barely holding him up on the floor. He's gasping for another breath when he feels himself being yanked up by the shirt collar, knocking all of the wind out of him anyway. Ben suddenly realizes they're moving, leaving the sanctity of Luke's ship and boarding onto the one the men had come in.

"Guess you wanna be difficult, huh?" The man's voice has taken on a sour tone now, all of the patience he had stored up seeming to be gone now. "Fine by me. I'll throw you in a goddamn cage if I have to until you're old enough to train."

 _Train for what?!_ Ben's head is spinning so much he almost misses a flurry of motion out of the corner of his eyes; a familiar blue and white droid rolling from around the corner of the docked X-wing.

"R-" Ben manages to shut himself up before he gives away his friend's presence, pressing his lips together suddenly and earning him an annoyed look from the man still carrying him with one hand. How the astromech avoided their attention, he can't dwell on right now.

"Am I what?" he growls angrily, and Ben shakes his head quickly in response, earning him another disgusted groan before he's thrown into a holding cell in the corner of the room they'd just arrived in.

Ben's head collides with the metal floor and the impact feels almost skull splitting; he can't help but cry out in pain, his eyes watering instantly as he hears the gated door swing shut behind him.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks idly to himself, using his father's favorite word to express his internal pain as he sits up slowly, holding his head with one hand and feeling blood meet his fingertips.

Through the haze of his brain and the swimming spots in his vision he begins to make out his surroundings; a dimly lit ship that would have plenty of room had it not been for the endless amount of crates and boxes crammed on the inside. He spots a couple other cages through the darkness, although those don't seem to have anyone (or anything) in them. The rest of the space is crowded with what looks like junk to Ben; whatever was once inside these packages seems to have been removed and is probably long gone.

Using the back of his hand to wipe his forehead Ben slowly pushes himself to sit up on his knees, his body aching in response to the motion. The blond man is gone, probably up towards the front of the ship where the controls are. Most of the men had followed suit and were gone as well, all except for one who was stationed at the back, guarding the ramp out that still hadn't been closed.

Ben feels blood beginning to trickle back down his forehead again but he ignores it, crawling on all fours across the dirty floor to peer his head around the mountain of crates in front of him, hoping for a sight of R2.

He spots them almost instantly; the astromech is rolling on the floor slowly with difficulty, trying their best to get towards the ship whose engines have started and ramp has already begun to close.

Ben's eyes widen in alarm, already seeing his friend and seemingly only hope out of this mess being cut off from view and he tries not to panic, listening as the soldier suddenly yells and pulls him from his reverie.

"Hey! You there!" Ben manages to stand up (albeit a bit wobbly) just in time to see the man raise a blaster and aim it out of the ramp, directly into where Ben can only assume R2 is standing. In a sudden burst of...well, Ben isn't entirely sure what, exactly- he thrusts his hand out and closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath and hopes for the best.

It's then when he feels it; that deep, slow burn in the middle of his chest. He wasn't sure what it was before, not until he went with his uncle to the temple. All his life it had been there, dormant mostly but had always come to his aid when he needed it most. It was a comfort, a blanket, a layer of security that he'd latched onto ever since he was a baby. It was as familiar as his parents, as their strong hugs and gentle kisses and Ben latched onto this, let it fill his mind and for one fleeting moment, he wasn't scared anymore.

When he opens his eyes again it's just in time to see a blaster being thrown out of the ship, and a very angry soldier lurching towards his cell.

Ben stumbles backwards but keeps his hand up, pushing it forward in the air and watching the man go flying backwards and straight into a pile of wooden crates, the crash nearly deafening even over the hum of the engines.

Ben can only gape for a few moments at the damage he's caused before he hears R2 beeping loudly from outside, looking over to see the ramp nearly closed. Before he can even think he's got his hand thrust out again, lifting a large metal box and throwing it towards the control panel on the opposite wall, watching it collide with the buttons and begin to spark, the ramp stopping altogether with just a few inches of space open to glimpse at the desert outside.

"Artoo, help me!" Ben drops his hand and feels a wave of exhaustion sweep over him in the same moment, stumbling forward and grabbing onto the bars for support. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in slowly, his head pounding and his right eyebrow beginning to crust over from the dried blood from his head.

Fortunately the droid is smart; Ben isn't sure he would've been able to help him onboard in the state he found himself in. He lifts his head and watches the astromech fly up towards the opening, managing to squeeze themself in far enough to push down and move the metal ramp down entirely, landing before rolling hurriedly over to the cage he was stuck in.

"Thanks buddy," he says breathlessly, his small fingers curling around the bars. "Can you get me out? I think I hear them coming." The soldiers were bound to have heard the commotion beneath them, and Ben really didn't want to see them use their axes and other various weapons on him now. R2 beeps erratically once more before whipping out a sawing tool, and Ben manages to jump back just before the sparks start flying.

He hates the feeling of this; being on the brink of death, struggling to escape, trying your best to avoid capture. A small part of Ben is disappointed he isn't appealed to this sort of life, the one that his father and mother had seemingly grown up in but all of that disappears when he hears the door being busted open above them, looking up and watching the blond soldier leap down from the hole.

He's got his helmet back on but Ben knows it's him; the way he's got his gloved hand wrapped around his axe is all the conviction he needs. Ben swallows thickly before rushing forward and tightening his grip on the bars, trying to steady his shaking hands. "Hurry, Artoo!"

R2 beeps almost indignantly at that, still slicing through the thick metal lock and Ben feels a few sparks burn at his skin but he couldn't care less. He jerks his head back up and sees the soldier lunging forward at the same moment the door swings open, R2 leaping back and just in time for Ben to throw himself forward and onto the ground.

The blade of the axe digs into the metal floor with a horrifying clanging noise, and Ben feels the ground vibrate beneath him. He hears R2 beeping loudly at him, unsure of what they're saying but knows they've got to be as panicked as he is.

Pushing himself back up on his feet, he takes off running towards the ramp, willing himself not to slip and fall in all the chaos.

"Let's go, Artoo!" The astromech is on his right, zipping furiously beside him and Ben hears the heavy footsteps of the rest of the soldiers on their heels.

He reaches the end of the ramp and nearly falls forward, struggling not to lose his balance before glancing down with wide eyes and realizing they're several feet in the air and moving, the sands of a desert planet growing smaller and smaller in his line of sight.

 _Why are we here? Were they gonna dump me on this random planet to die?_ His heart is pounding so erratically in his chest that Ben thinks he might actually be having a heart attack at the ripe old age of 7; for one fleeting moment he wishes he was and that he'd just drop dead where he was, so he wouldn't have the face the inevitable fact that he was about to have to throw himself out of his ship for just a chance at surviving.

R2 is pressed up against his back, nearly tipping him over the edge and Ben holds tightly onto the edges of the opening, his stomach churning the higher they get. Behind him he can hear the men all stop a few feet away, and he cranes his neck slightly to glance at them and meets the familiar smirking blond man's face once more.

"Give it up, kid." Ben clenches his jaw at that, fingers curling tighter around the metal edging. "You're gonna end up here with us eventually. Save yourself the drama and surrender now." Ben turns his head back around and feels his stomach lurch at how high they are now, internally trying to calculate if a fall from that height would kill him instantly or not.

His morbid thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a familiar humming noise, one that comes out of nowhere and from behind him. Ben tenses up almost instantly, his jaw beginning to ache at how hard he's clenching his teeth before he slowly turn s his head around again and sees the red, glowing tip of a lightsaber hovering just inches away from his face.

The soldier looks livid, a palpable wave of anger emanating off of him in a way that almost hurts Ben to look at. His face is devoid of emotions save for the yellow eyes, full of an emotion Ben doesn't even know how to describe. It's those same eyes that'll come to haunt him in his dreams for years to come.

"I can give you that scar right now, Ren." _Ren? Who's Ren?_ He ignores the apparent mishap and instead begins to turn his body around entirely, trying his best to keep his balance and not childishly hold onto R2 in front of him.

_You're not scared of him. Maybe a little bit, but you can't tell him that. You have to be brave, be strong, like the night you saved Mama's life. Be like Dad. Don't cry. Don't let them know you're afraid-_

Whatever his 7 year old brain was going to muster up in response to the soldier never comes. Instead, he feels R2 suddenly push him backwards with small metal limbs and Ben falls straight out of the ramp and into the sky below him.

He doesn't even start screaming until about five seconds in; his brain seems almost stunted by what just happened. It isn't until he looks up and sees the large ship he was once on begin to grow smaller and smaller above him that he realizes how screwed he is, and then the yelling finally comes.

The morbid thoughts he'd been having all day seem to have no stopping point; _do I want to die back first or face first?_ The thought of seeing his imminent demise come barrelling at him at a hundred miles per hour makes him nearly puke in his mouth so he just decides to close his eyes instead, the wind flying through his long hair and batting against his cheeks.

_I should've stayed at the temple. Why did I want to go home so badly? If I was still there none of this would be happening-_

The collision of his back against a metal object knocks what little wind he had out of his lungs, eyes flying open in shock before he throws his body around to find R2 flying right beneath him, supporting his weight with his metal frame and carrying him closer and closer to the ground; this time, at a steadier and much safer pace.

Ben gapes in shock for a split second before he throws his arms around the droid, partially for support but mostly because he's suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. "Artoo, you saved me!" The astromech beeps in what Ben assumes is an affectionate way, flying closer and closer towards a parked X-wing on the ground.

 _Makes sense; leave my ship here with no body. My parents would think I'd been kidnapped or killed._ He doesn't like how quickly he pieces that together.

Ben turns his head back up towards the sky just in time to see the ship disappear into hyperspace, a cloud of smoke present before it disappears for good. The sight is almost exhausting to look at, relief flowing through him like a wave.

When Ben's feet touch the sand he nearly falls, his knees still wobbly from the events that had just happened. He blinks a couple times, raising a hand to his head and feeling the dried blood on his skin before he drops it once more and lets out a long breath, his shoulders falling as he does.

"That was close," is all he can muster out, and R2 beeps in agreement at his comment before he flies up towards his spot on the back of the ship, eager to get back home and Ben can't blame them in the slightest.

He somehow manages to climb up and into the cockpit again, picking up his uncle's helmet from the seat he'd left it in. The leather is hot from the sun above them and when Ben glances up and squints, he frowns to himself.

"Artoo, how come this planet has two suns?" The droid responds but it's not like Ben understands what he's saying; instead he looks back down and pushes the button Luke had pointed out to him before they'd left, pulling his helmet into his lap while the screen loads.

"Tatooine?" He furrows his brow at the name, shrugging a bit before putting his helmet on. "Kind of a stupid name."

The journey home feels like it's years long despite the fact that they travel at light speed; Ben isn't able to bring himself to relax for the first few minutes. His helmet feels almost suffocating over his head but he knows better than to take it off, especially now that his head's still throbbing from earlier.

He focuses on the outside, at the blue colors flying past his windows in a spinning haze. It never gets old to watch, and at such a close proximity now it's hard to look away.

Eventually he settles down against the back of the seat, his helmet resting at an angle so his face is tilted slightly upwards and he watches the stars and galaxies fly past him at a dizzying speed. Despite it all, and despite the way he feels that his life has been turned upside down in the last week alone, he feels at peace. The familiar humming noise reminds him of the Falcon and he smiles a bit despite himself, even more eager to get home than he was before. Mostly, he's just thankful to be alive.

When he sees the light on the panel begin to flash he hits the button and brings them back to regular speed, jumping out of hyperspace with a harsh lurch. Ben feels the momentum push his body forward and he sits up quickly, blinking a few times to make out the beautiful outline of what he knows is his new home planet, the one his parents were waiting for him on and one he'd never been so happy to see in his life.

R2 handles the landing with ease; Ben already has his helmet off before they even touch the ground. He spies the Falcon a little ways away from their home, as well as a ship he isn't familiar with but can only assume is his uncle's.

And in the distance, running towards him as fast as her legs can carry him, is his mother.

"Ben?! BEN!" He throws his helmet down towards the floor (and feels bad about it for the slightest second when he remembers it's Luke's) before reaching up and hoisting himself from the cockpit. His shaky legs try their best to betray him but he doesn't give them the chance, leaping down onto the ground just in time for his mother to practically collide into him, her arms wrapping around his body and lifting him off the ground.

"Oh God, Ben! You're okay, you're alive!" She's crying, deep and loud sobs that seem to be flooding over with relief, squeezing him against her chest and Ben wraps his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist in response.

His face is buried in her neck and he wants to respond but the reunion is almost too much; already he feels his own eyes beginning to sting with tears so he keeps his mouth shut, sniffling into her skin and trying not to focus on the pain in his chest.

He hears his father's voice moments later, his usual steady voice replaced with a shakier, softer tone. "Ben?" He lifts his head up to meet his father's gaze and is shocked to see his face is wet with tears as well, feeling his large hand come to rest on the side of his face.

Ben feels his thumb gently swipe along the bottom of his eye and wipe away the moisture that's clinging to his eyelashes and his throat begins to clench up despite it all, leaning into his father's hand and closing his eyes.

Leia kneels down at some point on the ground and keeps holding him in her arms, cradling him like a baby to her chest and for once Ben doesn't care at all. Her hand goes to cup the back of his head and he resists the urge to flinch at the pain, instead burying his face deeper into her neck. Han joins them at the side and wraps his arms easily around the both of them, pressing a kiss to the top of his scalp before resting his cheek on Ben's hair.

Ben closes his eyes and breathes in deep, trying to memorize the scents of his parents. For some reason, he feels like it's important that he does.

He finally feels the grip around him begin to loosen after a few moments, lifting his face from his mother's shoulder to look at her, smiling a bit despite himself at her tear stained cheeks. "Aw come on, Mama." Leia blinks at him, wiping her sleeve along her nose and giving him a confused look. "Even I didn't cry that much while I was gone."

She swats at his arm but it's harmless and ill-aimed; he hears his father chuckle softly behind him before his large hands are pulling Ben up off the ground and back onto his feet.

"Hey, don't tease your mother. She's been a wreck all evening." Han's voice is gentle but Ben understands the underlying statement, the 'she thought you were dead and so did I' that's being unsaid, and Ben merely nods in response, flinching at the way it makes his head begin to throb again.

Han seems to notice and frowns, kneeling down in front of him and pushing the curls back from his forehead. "Sheesh, kid. What happened here?" Leia is at his side in what seems like a split second, teary eyes widening slightly.

"Oh, God…" Ben lifts a hand to his head and runs his finger along the tender bump, making a face at the dried blood he feels beginning to flake off.

"It's alright, doesn't hurt much." He contemplates on telling his parents he received this injury from being thrown into a metal floor but refrains, not wanting to be the reason his mother potentially faints. Instead he lets his gaze float upwards and away from their concerned faces until it lands on the miserable expression on his uncle's.

"Uncle Luke!" Ben watches him react from a few feet away, leaning against the side of the house with his arms crossed over his chest. He gives a poor attempt at a smile, and Ben notices his face seems much paler than usual.

"Hey, Ben." He leaves it at that, showing no sign of moving and Ben frowns a bit, suddenly growing more and more annoyed with his parents' prying fingers around his scalp. He lifts his hands up in an attempt to try and stop them and it works, seizing the opportunity to dodge beneath their arms and jog across the yard.

The closer he gets, the more uncomfortable Luke's face seems to get. It's contorted with a mirage of emotions but Ben senses more pain than anything, stone still even as he approaches.

Ben lets his eyes wander down towards the saber hanging from his belt before looking back up at his face, frowning as he starts to piece everything together. "It wasn't your fault."

The guilt that comes emanating from Luke then is almost overwhelming; Ben watches his face fall even further, shifting nervously on his feet before standing up straight and taking a deep breath. "It is, Ben. It's all my fault. I never should've let you go alone."

Ben grits his teeth at that and decides to copy the older man, crossing his arms over his own chest in a halfway defiant stance.

"Is not. You didn't know those soldiers were going to get me." Luke doesn't respond, still looking painfully upset and Ben hears his parents' footsteps approach from behind, his mother speaking up.

"Soldiers? Like, the ones in white from the attack?" _Stormtroopers,_ Ben thinks to himself. _Call them what they are_. He shakes his head after a moment, letting his eyes linger on Luke for a few seconds before turning around and facing his parents again, both of them looking equally concerned.

"No, different ones. They were in all black, had lightsabers but also these big...weapons. Most were axes, and they wore helmets. Their voices were all muffled because of it."

Ben had never seen the color drain from someone's face as quickly as it did that day, his mother seeming to turn into a ghost right in front of his eyes. She didn't even blink, staring back at him with dark eyes and for the first time in his entire life, he could see the age in them.

He averted his gaze to his father and saw the same thing; the wrinkles by his eyes he'd never noticed before, the frown lines on his face, all were crystal clear now. It made sense; if their lives before him had been full of the terrors he'd just faced on that ship, it was all the explanation he needed.

Ben didn't know what to say, or even do at that point so he turned around to face his uncle again. He looked aged too, although Ben felt like he'd known this for awhile. All of the stories he heard about him, about the famous Luke Skywalker, well...they seemed wrinkle worthy, if he was being honest. Still, Luke looked more upset than shocked, and Ben was tired of people not speaking so he quickly closed the rest of the distance between them and threw his arms around his waist in a hug.

"It wasn't your fault. None of it was. So...stop acting like it was." _Smooth,_ Ben thought in bitter embarrassment to himself. He was beginning to think the blow to his head had caused some brain damage.

Regardless of his lack of better speech, the point seemed to get across all the same; Ben felt his uncle wrap his arms around his shoulders and hug him close. The feeling was warm and familiar and calmed in down despite everything; part of him wondered if it was some sort of Jedi mind trick but he knew deep down it was just because he loved Luke, and Luke loved him back.

Much to his dismay Ben found himself at a medical station shortly afterwards, being poked and prodded by a droid who probably wasn't as gentle as they should be. Despite his rising annoyance he kept his mouth shut, watching quietly as the droid ran tests and answered when he asked questions.

His parents and uncle were a few feet away, giving the droid space to work. Ben let his eyes wander over to them at one point, furrowing his brow in confusion at how his parents were looking at him in an almost melancholy way.

"What?" he asked after a moment, allowing the droid to lift his arm up for a blood sample. Leia merely smiled softly in return, shaking her head a bit before speaking up.

"Nothing, my love." She pauses again, still gazing at him before she gently rests her head against Han's shoulder. "You're just so grown up now."

He had a slight concussion but the bash to his head wasn't deep enough to warrant any serious intervention (or a trip to the bacta tank, thank God. He was still traumatized from his treatment in one at age five after falling out of the Falcon and landing directly on his face.)

He makes a point to hold onto Luke's hand when they walk home from the medical bay; he's adamant on letting his uncle know he doesn't blame him for anything that happened, and while he doesn't believe his parents do either he also knows them, and how protective they can be. Oftentimes, that protection clouded their judgement.

Plus, he just doesn't like knowing his uncle is sad. This new sensitivity to emotion was definitely going to take some getting used to.

It's late in the evening when they arrive home, and while Ben is exhausted from the day's events Leia is insistent that he take a bath. Arguably, it's not a bad idea; the dried blood is starting to get itchy, anyway.

The warm water feels like heaven when he climbs inside the big tub in their bathroom, stretching out his lanky legs and getting comfortable. Normally he'd be annoyed by the presence of his mother kneeling down beside him on the floor, but tonight he's relieved; the thought of having to wash his own hair right now makes him want to dunk his head underwater and never come back up.

Although he'd never admit it, he likes it best when his mom washes his hair. She had just the right amount of force behind her movements, and fingernails that scratched his scalp soothingly instead of painfully. She took her time that evening, careful of the gash on his head that had been closed up with some sort of clear liquid he'd seen used on his father many times before, letting her fingers run through his curls ever so gently, getting through any tangles they encountered.

He didn't even realize his eyes were closed until he heard his mother giggle in his ear, touching his cheek with a soapy fingertip.

"Sleepy much?" Ben smiled at that, opening his eyes and turning his neck slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Very sleepy," he replied, and Leia hummed softly at that, beginning to rinse out his hair.

"Well you're in luck, we're going straight to bed after this." Ben stayed quiet, letting her run her fingernails along his scalp to get out any excess shampoo before he spoke up again.

"Can I stay in here a little bit longer? By myself?" His mom scanned his face carefully, still leaning against the side of the tub before she nodded slowly, reaching out and stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"Yeah, course you can," she replied gently, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before tugging at a lock of his hair between her thumb and index finger. "But tomorrow; you're getting a haircut."

Ben made a face at that but smiled once she got up and ruffled his wet hair, getting water everywhere in the process. He watched her leave and shut the door behind her and then he was suddenly left in silence once again.

Normally he hated silence; it was boring and uneventful and for his entire seven years of living, he'd always been searching for adventure, of any kind. His life was chaotic because he wanted it to be that way; he wanted to always be moving, whether it was running through town with his friends or bugging his father to let him help work on the Falcon or sneaking into his mother's office at work just to say hi.

That had all changed now. After the attack, and watching his mother nearly die, and getting kidnapped by soldiers in masks, well...maybe quiet was okay.

Ben glanced down at the soapy water, running his fingers through the bubbles. Some of them were tinged red with the blood his mother had scrubbed out, and he took the time to pop them with his fingertip. Outside he could hear his parents and uncle talking, although the words were too muffled to understand.

He'd regretted not asking Luke about Vader at the temple, but now he figured it was for the best. There were some things that were best left unknown, or at least not talked about. He was dead and gone, defeated at the Battle of Endor by his own son. As sick as it made Ben feel to even think about having to kill his own father, he figured Luke had had his reasons.

Plus, Darth Vader just really wasn't a nice guy.

He shifted his body in the water as the bubbles began to disappear, letting his head rest against the cold porcelain before staring up at the ceiling, letting his eyes follow the cracks in the plaster.

That soldier had called him Ren; he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. Rationally, he knew it was probably just a mispronunciation of his name, but that almost seemed too easy. These guys were bad, and they'd seemed to know a lot more about Ben that even he did.

He begins to lift his hand up to his face to trace a line over his right eye but stops himself, frowning.

And the way his mother's face had turned white when he'd mentioned them. Did she know who they were? Did his father, or even Luke? He figured they hadn't talked about it mainly because Ben had just gotten home, but the curiosity was beginning to eat him alive.

He had a lot of questions, but right now, none of them were as important as his need for sleep.

He takes his time finishing, letting the tub drain completely before climbing out and methodically drying himself off with a towel. The clothes he was wearing lay in a crumpled, bloody heap on the floor beside a clean pair of pajamas, and he puts them on before pushing his damp hair from his eyes and walking out.

He's unsurprised when his mother announces that she wants him sleeping in their bed tonight; he figures he's gonna be there for at least the next month anyway. What IS surprising is how relieved he is to hear it, realizing he wants nothing more than to be sandwiched safely in between his parents while he rests.

Tonight is different, and he gets to climb in first. It feels a bit strange, the few seconds he's laying in the middle of the giant mattress alone, like he might begin sinking. It isn't until he looks up and sees his parents getting ready for bed that he feels safe again.

He's known for a long time, but his parents really ARE in love. A lot of his friends had parents that were divorced, or came from single parent households, or had parents who just couldn't stand each other. Ben had never really recognized how lucky he was to have parents who looked at each other the way his did.

They shared secret looks that Ben hadn't quite begun to pick up on until recently; he honestly just hadn't cared enough to pay attention, which made sense. Kisses were gross, and his dad had ALWAYS loved sneaking his mom kisses whenever she wasn't looking.

Tonight is quieter than usual. His parents speak in muted tones in the bathroom, one brushing their teeth and the other brushing their hair. It's a process, a routine that Ben is sure they follow every night but somehow it's more intimate this evening. He finds himself sitting there amongst the pillows and just watching, noting the way his father's hand lingers in his mother's hair for a few seconds before running his fingers through it and the way his mom has a special smile that's just for his dad, one that he recognizes instantly because it reaches her eyes, and not just her lips.

For a split second, he finds himself wanting that someday.

And as quick as it comes, it's gone again. He makes a face to himself and flops down on the mattress, turning over to bury his face in a pillow.

_Ugh. Don't be stupid, Ben. Remember; kisses are nasty._

He hears the lights being turned off shortly after, thankful that his burning red cheeks wouldn't be visible to his parents that would most definitely tease him about it. He manages to flip himself over onto his back and watches his parents climb in beside him, his father on his right and his mother on his left.

"Hey, no hogging up the whole bed," Han says pointedly, giving Ben a playful shove and Ben tries to stifle his laughter at how it tickles. He takes his time laying his head down comfortably on the pillow, careful not to upset his wound before settling down and yawning, gratefully taking the blankets his mother pulls up towards his chest.

They lay in silence then, the three of them staring up at the ceiling and on any other evening it would be weird, uncomfortable, awkward. Ben blinks slowly, taking in the way the dim lights from outside cast long shadows along the cracked plaster, misshapen rectangles from the window it shines through.

His parents breathe softly and easily on either side; he can feel both of their chests rising and falling, in and out of sync, similar to real life. No matter what happened, they always managed to find their way back to each other.

Exhausted seems like an understatement for how he feels; he's barely able to keep his eyes open, even as he feels his mother begin to run her fingers through his curls, still slightly damp from his bath.

"Sleep, Ben. We'll see you in the morning." Ben yawns almost immediately, feeling his mother's lips press against his cheek before his father is speaking as well.

"We love you. Remember that." The slightly strained tone to Han's voice is unnoticed in his sleepy state; his father barely gets the words out in time before Ben is asleep entirely, his entire world muted and black and completely still once more.

The next morning, he wakes up alone.

The discovery wakes him up almost instantly, sitting up quickly and ignoring the way his head spins.

"Mama?" He pauses, listening for a response but hears radio silence instead. He frowns deeply, blinking past the sleep still lingering in his eyes before pushing the comforter off of his body. "Daddy?"

Their house isn't very big, but when Ben slips out of bed and starts padding across the concrete floor with his bare feet, the noise seems like it's echoing against the walls. He feels his heart rate beginning to speed up, keeping his arms at his side as he glances down the hallway and jogs down the stairs, unease growing in his chest.

"Mama?" he repeats again, this time a little more loud and a little less steady.

He hears a faint noise then, the sound of a chair scraping the floor and he turns in the direction of the kitchen just in time to see his mother appear a few feet away, dressed for the day but looking haphazard in a way that Ben can't quite place.

"Ben…" She stops speaking after a moment, as if she's forgotten how to and she clasps her hands in front of her chest. The dim lighting of the hallway makes it hard to read the expression on her face, but just from her voice Ben can tell something is wrong.

She takes another moment to compose herself before she folds her arms over her chest, tilting her head slightly to the side so that her perfectly braided hair catches a bit of the light. "You're awake, good. Go on and get dressed for me, sweetheart."

Ben restrains himself from frowning, trying his hardest to keep his expression as unreadable as he can before nodding a bit and turning around, walking back towards the bedroom.

The clothes he'd managed to overlook earlier in his panic are neatly folded on the end of the bed, halfway covered by the blankets he'd thrown. He stands in front of them for a moment, running a fingertip along the seams of his shirt before methodically beginning to undress, careful to keep his mind from wandering at all.

Something was wrong. He didn't need the Force to know that much. It was as apparent as the sun outside, as the blood in his veins. Ben inhales a slow breath through his nose, taking his time in rolling up his long sleeves so that they don't dangle off his hands. Down the hallway he can hear more people talking now, more chairs being moved as people got up and walked around.

_It's okay. Whatever it is...it'll be okay. You're home now, you're safe with Mom and Dad and Uncle Luke and they won't let anything happen. Even if those soldiers come back...we'll be ready._

His little pep talk to himself boosts his confidence slightly, but it all seems to disappear the moment he steps into the kitchen a few moments later and sees his mother's face, clear as day in the bright morning light.

Ben's seen his mother distraught on a handful of occasions, and most of them involved him and some sort of gruesome injury he'd gotten from running around and just being a kid. Majority of the time they looked way worse than they actually were, and Ben was back on his feet by the next morning.

One time, though, when Ben was 3, he remembered something happening to his father. He wasn't sure what exactly, but he remembers his mother getting a holo sent to her that told her to come to the medical station immediately and next thing Ben knew he was on his mom's hip and they were booking it across town. When they'd arrived, he remembered being escorted to the very back of the building, a wing that Ben had never known existed during his previous visits. The white walls and empty hallways all seemed to coalesce into one large room in the back, a giant window giving him and his mother a glimpse into a hospital room where they saw his father and her husband laying on an operating table, bloodied up and bruised almost to the point of unrecognition.

He remembers being confused, watching the medical droids working on his father with so much speed. In hindsight, having a 3 year old watching an operation probably wasn't the best decision on anyone's part but everyone seemed too shocked to notice. He remembers whispers about some sort of attack on his father, and he faintly remembers the Falcon being immobile for quite a long time after that but he never got a full story. He often forgot the entire thing even happened; time tended to blur a lot of his memories together.

What he didn't forget was the look on his mother's face that entire evening.

It had burned a hole in his memory, had cauterized the look of sheer misery in Leia's eyes as she stared at her husband through the glass, as if trying to will him to open his eyes and stare right back. Even from his angle on her hip Ben could see his mom's face clearly. Eventually she had realized that her son didn't need to be watching this and had gently pushed his face down into her neck and for once, he didn't try and fight it.

He wishes he could do that now.

Leia's got the same expression on her face as she did that day, but this time there's more age to it. Ben knows realistically that only a few years have passed since then, but it's almost daunting how much older she looks. She's sitting in a chair at the end of the table, halfway turned towards him with one arm resting on the wooden top. If Ben has to guess, he'd assume she hadn't slept at all the night before.

Standing behind her like always is his father, and strangely enough his face reminds Ben of that day he'd nearly died as well. It lacks a clear expression; Ben can only begin to guess at what he's thinking about under that cloudy exterior, and the blankness of it all reminds him of his father lying on an operating table, unconsciously awaiting what's going to happen next.

And last is Luke, who stands a few feet away from the couple and is leaning against the wall of their kitchen, looking more grim than anything. His lips are set in a way that reads as uncomfortable, and his eyes have a look of guilt in them once more. He's dressed in his same outfit from the Temple, his lightsaber hanging from his belt and he's got his arms crossed over his chest, subtly cutting himself off from the rest of the room.

Ben lets his eyes wander across the room slowly, taking in his family one by one all while subconsciously trying to figure out what exactly it is that's going on. His mother's dark eyes glisten slightly as she watches him, and Ben suddenly notices the way she's clasping onto her father's hand at her side.

"Ben...we need to talk to you." Ben blinks once at that, still staring at his mother silently. She inhales a deep breath, and he can see the way her throat moves as she swallows. Again, she squeezes her husband's hand.

"Your father and I…" Another pause. Ben lets his eyes flicker up to meet his dad's face and he sees that he's not looking at his son but rather down at his wife, bent slightly over her shoulder in a concerned way. Again Leia stops talking, letting her head hang and breaking her eye contact with Ben completely. He has no choice but to stand there dumbly, his heart beginning to pick up even more speed.

No one speaks. Ben can hear his mom struggling to hold back tears, and he's glad he can't see her face. Normally he'd have crossed the room in an instant to be at her side, to hold her other hand and ask her what's wrong. His father would be doing the same, instead of just standing there uselessly holding her hand.

This isn't normal. Whatever it is that's going on is clearly something bad, and Ben is about to start asking questions when his father finally opens his mouth and speaks.

"Ben, you're going to the Jedi temple to live with your uncle."

Ben stares blankly at his father in return, and he feels his chest beginning to tighten up, squeezing all of the air out of his lungs.

The room is silent; he's sure he could hear a pin drop but suddenly he's overwhelmed with the noise of his own heartbeat, loud and rampant in his ears. He feels his uncle's eyes on the side of his face, barely.

_What?_

Ben opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out; his lips almost feel numb. His mother has her back turned now, her arms crossed over her chest and his father looks like he's in pain, eyebrows furrowed deeply and the lines in his face more prominent than Ben's ever seen them before.

"You're...gonna stay there." Each word that leaves Han's mouth feels like a punch in the stomach, and Ben is nearly reeling from it all. "Until your training is done, and then...well, then you'll be a Jedi." Another pause. Ben is staring directly at him but feels like he's seeing absolutely nothing. "He's ready to take you, right now."

_This isn't happening. You're still asleep. This is a bad dream._

"Come on, Ben." He wants to throw up at the sound of Luke's voice, calm and gentle and he feels a hand being placed on his shoulder out of nowhere, although there's no force to it. That's almost insulting; he'd almost rather Luke start dragging him out instead of acting like he has a choice in the matter.

Because, clearly...he doesn't.

Han has his arms around his wife's shoulders, his body halfway turned away from his son and he pulls her up against his chest, and Ben watches his mother tilt her face away even further, burying it sideways into his shirt and he feels something beginning to burn deep within his stomach, unsure if it's anger or the urge to vomit but not really caring anymore.

"That's it?" His voice is much louder than he'd intended, but in a sick sort of way watching his mother throw her head up to face him in shock is somewhat satisfying. Ben feels Luke's hand tighten ever so slightly on his shoulder, as if a sort of warning.

Leia's eyes are wide, and Ben can see the tear stains on her cheeks that dull the anger in his chest slightly, but make his heart ache in return.

"Ben, you have to understand something…" His father is speaking again, or at least attempting to. Han's never been the best at that, and he's no better now. Ben watches the older man falter after a moment, scrambling his brain to find the right words to say and showing it all across his face. Ben swallows thickly, inhaling a sharp breath before speaking again.

"I understand a lot of things. I'm not stupid. I never have been." Ben half expects his mother to jump in and insist she's never thought that, she never said that, but she stays silent. _Why is she so quiet all of a sudden?_

There's a small part of him that's still hoping Luke will start dragging him out, grab him by the shoulders and steer him towards the ship he knows has to be parked outside to take him back to the temple, back to the life he never wanted but is forced to have. He's never hated his last name before, but he suddenly wishes nothing more than to have never been born a Solo.

"But I _don't_ understand why you're giving up on me now." If hearts could physically break, Ben would've heard his mother's shatter into a million pieces by the way her face contorts at his words.

"Sweetheart, no…" Ben presses his lips together at the way her voice cracks, watching her immediately leave her husband's arms and rush to kneel in front of her son, taking his hands that are dangerously close to balling up into fists. "We're not giving up on you, baby. I promise you that. We just...we can't give you the help you need right now."

Ben's retort is quick and sour. "What kind of help is that?" Leia inhales slowly through her nose, keeping those sad eyes fixed on his face and Ben can feel the way she's massaging her thumb gently against his wrists like she always does, and the feeling makes his entire body ache.

_Let it sink in. Lock it away in your memory. You're never gonna experience it again._

"You know, help with the Force." Han interjects then, and Ben lets his dark eyes flicker up towards his dad, watching him kneel down beside his wife, still towering over her. "Your mom and I, we're useless with that sort of stuff. Your uncle is a master at it...he can teach you everything you need to know."

Ben can feel the gravity of this entire situation beginning to weigh down on him, heavy on his shoulders and squeezing even more air that isn't there from his lungs. His throat tightens involuntarily as soon as he looks at his mother again, her cheeks wet with freshly fallen tears as she squeezes his hands gently.

"Ben, we're never going to give up on you. Nothing in the entire galaxy, in the entire universe, could make us do that." He feels his father's hand gently cup the side of his face from the left, long fingers gently perusing through his tangled black curls that he never got the chance to get cut and it's all suddenly too much for Ben to handle.

He doesn't want this life. He doesn't want to be a Jedi, doesn't want to leave behind his tiny little family to live at a temple and learn how to use the Force. He wishes it would've left him alone, but he knew that without it, his mother would be dead. The thought alone is enough to bring him to tears and send his face going straight to bury itself into his mother's neck, his safe spot that he wasn't going to have again after today.

Leia wraps him in her arms tightly, holding his head with her hand and starts pressing kisses to his hair, sniffling and letting Ben know she's crying just as hard as he is. He feels Han's large arms wrap themselves around the both of them, one hand on his wife's back and the other on Ben's, as if trying to keep them all together as one complete thing.

 _It's not fair,_ Ben thinks to himself. _Dad didn't want to fight in the war. Mom and Luke didn't want Darth Vader for a father. We've never been able to choose anything, all because our destinies were written for us._

He can hear his mother's voice in his ear, soft and breathy and miserable.

"We love you so much, Ben. We'll never stop loving you."

_I can't do this. I don't want it._

Ben wants to speak but his throat feels swollen, and when he feels Luke's strong hands beginning to pull him away from his parents the cold air hitting his now tear stained cheeks knocks him out of his reverie. His parents are obliging, Leia holding onto his hands for a few seconds before she slowly lets go, allowing her brother to pull Ben backwards, steadying him on his feet.

"It's time to go," he says simply, and he's glad his uncle's steering him around because Ben is positive he's forgotten how to walk on his own. He takes a step back, blinking tearily at the sight of his parents still on the ground. His father's got his arm back around his mom's shoulders, holding her protectively into his side and his mother looks miserable, small arms wrapped around herself. She lets her dark eyes linger on his own for a second, and Ben feels a rush of energy suddenly sweep over his body, momentarily calming him down as he stands there.

Love.

Leia turns her head and buries it into Han's chest, the horrible crying coming back and the feeling is gone as quick as it came. Han tears his eyes away from Ben's face and diverts his attention to his wife, gently stroking her hair and this gesture seems to signal to Luke that he needs to turn his nephew around.

Ben has no sort of fight left in him; he obligingly turns on his heels and begins the trek across the yard, back towards the ship parked several feet away. If he focuses on his steps enough, he can nearly drown out the way his mom sobs behind him.

Luke is stone faced and silent, keeping his head forward and his hands on Ben's shoulders as they reach the ramp, letting go and allowing him to walk inside. For a split second, he considers turning and bolting back. Nothing can be worth this.

_Who's gonna protect the galaxy for Mom? Or Dad?_

Ben grits his teeth and steps inside, taking a deep breath and willing himself not to allow any more tears to fall.

_The Jedi keep us safe; you're going to keep the Galaxy safe. Think of all the people you'll help._

Ben hears the doors begin to shut a few moments later, suddenly realizing he's been left to stand in the middle of the corridor by himself.

_This is for the best. It's not what you want, but what you need._

When he feels the ship begin to lift beneath his feet, the sensation is enough to ground him back in reality for a moment, turning around and sprinting toward a window a few feet away. Ben rests his forehead on the window, watching the tiny speck that is his parents grow smaller and smaller with each passing second.

Instinctively, he finds his hand floating towards his pants pocket, shoving his fingers inside until they meet the unmistakable feeling of metallic dice. His thumb runs along the small chain, thankful he'd grabbed them this morning, taking a deep breath as they disappear amongst the clouds.

That's the first time he hears the voice; a young man, loud and clear as a bell in his head. For whatever reason, he sounds strangely familiar.

" _Don't worry, Ben. This is where the fun begins."_

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand we're all crying! typical coming from me. 
> 
> i think the chapter is closed on this particular series! we all know what happens next in ben's life; i just really wanted to explore his childhood a bit more. 
> 
> if you actually finished this, thank you so much for reading! it means the world to me. i hope you liked it and it kept you entertained during this really shitty global crisis. stay safe and healthy and wear your masks, please!
> 
> as always, please leave comments/kudos if you enjoyed. i'd love to talk to y'all about your thoughts on it! hopefully, i'll be back in less than 6 months this time with something else for y'all to read! :)


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